The Legend of Zelda: An Assassin's Heart
by TennisWriter456
Summary: Two centuries after the Twilight, Hyrule is falling apart in Princess Zelda's hands. A missing hero of fate, a rebellion force plotting against her, and a fatal assassin bent on killing her plague Zelda. A civil war approaches...one fighting for her life.
1. Prologue

**My second Fanfiction! Once you've read a little bit of it, please go onto my profile and take part in the poll I have on there :) Keep in mind...I am not going to write the story based on the popular vote. I'm just curious! Enjoy the story, and don't forget to leave me your comments! Thank you.  
**

**ALSO: The cover photo of this page is by Sakimichan, who has an INSANELY good Deviantart page. I highly suggest that all of you go check it out. Now...story time!**

* * *

Prologue

The world was moving slowly as he blinked a few times, light slipping in through the opening in the tent. He could see the sun just barely beginning to peek over the horizon, giving the sky orange, purple, and blood red hues. As he sat up, the first thing he felt was the usual ache in his back. Sleeping on a thin mattress on the cold, hard ground was never good for his body.

_The training will take the ache away,_ he thought optimistically, stretching his arms and legs. A quick shiver ran through his body, and goose bumps appeared for one moment, and then disappeared. After a few minutes of sitting passively, he managed to stand up and arch his back, letting the cool morning breeze surround him. It felt good on his bare torso, and he wiggled his toes in the dirt beneath them.

A smile now on his face, he pulled the plain white shirt over his head, and then put his boots on. He knew that there was something about this day, something special...he just couldn't put his finger on it. Then, as if by magic, the answer appeared.

"Good morning, sunshine!" A young, energetic girl flung open the flap of the tent, letting herself in. The sun outlined her slender silhouette perfectly, creating a dramatic and shadowy effect. She put her hand on her hip, cocking her head to one side. Long, pure silver hair ran down her back in broad, gorgeous waves, like a long white waterfall. Her skin was olive-colored; a nice contrast to her bright hair, and her cheeks maintained a certain rosy complexion. The most noticeable parts of her were her large, twinkling eyes; they were greener than even the grass on the ground.

Her smile suggested that she was a perky, energetic, and enthusiastic girl. She was wearing a long, silky red dress with golden floral designs, and two slits down the sides to help her move freely. At her waist were an intricately tied golden ribbon, and a golden embroidered collar that came up her neck. She wore tall black boots that came up to her knees. Attached to the belt were two sharp, deadly looking sabers. There was a mischievous expression on her flawless face as she entered.

"Oh, look, you're awake," she raised a thin eyebrow.

"You act like I sleep so much!" he laughed quietly, straightening up and rolling his eyes.

"Well you usually do," she argued, taking another step into the tent. He felt chills run down his spine as she gazed into his eyes. "But it's natural for somebody to wake up early on their birthday."

"My...birthday?"

"Yes, Link! It's your birthday!" she laughed, throwing her head back. "Did you honestly forget your birthday?"

"Uh...I guess I did," he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck taking another step toward her. She licked her lips, grinning as she looked away anxiously.

"Who forgets their own birthday?" she joked, though she was now a bit distracted. Link's face was now inches from hers, and there was a soft expression on his face.

"But you know," she finally looked up, and put her hands gently on his shoulders and began swaying slowly. "Today you're officially a man."

"I wasn't a man before?"

She laughed again, her clear, silky voice floating through the atmosphere. It was music to his ears.

"Eighteen is the age of a true man," she rolled her eyes. "And, what do you know? Today is your eighteenth birthday."

"What's the age of a true woman?" he asked quietly, leaning forward so that his forehead was leaning against hers.

"Um," she paused for a moment, squinting as she thought over the question. "Twelve." His thumbs stroked her rosy cheeks, and his heart pumped at the sight of her beautiful smile. Link knew that he would never be able to get the image of her face out of his head. He chuckled along with her, gazing into her deep eyes and getting lost in their sparkle.

He then put his lips gently on hers, running his fingers gingerly through her hair. She put her slender fingers around the back of his neck. It was a momentary—yet beautiful and meaningful—kiss that left Link completely star struck. Damita was grinning, and blushing madly. He loved seeing her so happy, and he loved being able to hold her in his arms and caress her, and love her...

"Come," she suddenly pulled away, grabbing his hand. "I want to show you something."

"Did you get me a present?" he raised his eyebrows hopefully as she led him out of the tent. She let out a quick burst of sarcastic laughter.

"Ha! Good joke, Link."

He simply rolled his eyes with a small grin and followed obediently. The people of the camp were beginning to stir, as men began to prepare themselves for training and their women aided them. Then there were the girls like Damita, who were also getting ready for training. Though there were few, those women who took part in the fighting were, most of times, fiercer than the men. That was certainly the case with Damita; nobody dared cross her path. As Link gazed at her, she seemed so innocent and beautiful, with her twinkling green eyes and silky white hair; then his eyes moved to the weapons at her waist, and he remembered her skill with them. She could easily defeat most of the men in the camp. Her biggest asset was the fact that she didn't look dangerous.

"Where are you taking me?" Link asked with a chuckle as they entered the woods, a place that was rarely entered by the warriors of the camp.

"You'll see!" she replied defensively. Link laughed softly under his breath and reluctantly continued on through the winding paths, lined by the tall tees and their colorful leaves. He noticed that Damita had a certain pattern in her step; she always tried to avoid the shadows that the trees cast. She was constantly jumping from one slither of light to the next, and Link found himself smiling at her childish ways. Yet there was something free and wild about her, something more beautiful than he could describe. She never let anything restrict her, and she let herself become one with nature. It was one of the many things that Link loved about Damita.

"Here we are!" she finally exclaimed as they emerged from the forest. Link let out a gasp of awe as he stepped up beside her, gazing forward with wide eyes. "I bet you didn't expect this to be here."

"No, I didn't," he admitted with a deep breath "This is beautiful. How did you find this?"

"Oh, you know," she shrugged modestly. "Exploring through the forest..."

"Skipping training sessions?" he looked at her accusingly. She grinned guiltily, flashing her bright white teeth.

"Eh, you don't need them anyway," he dismissed. Damita straightened up.

"Thanks," she replied. He nodded.

They sat down on the edge of the cliff, looking out across a perfect, untouched landscape. Grass was spread out as far as they could see, with a glassy pond in the center. In the background, they could see mountains rising up above the horizon, and birds flew freely through the sky.

"Isn't it just breathtaking?" Damita said dreamily, weaving her fingers through Link's. She then leaned her head against his shoulder. He grabbed a strand of her hair and began playing with it absentmindedly.

"Thank you, Damita," he whispered, and she looked up at him with her large, twinkling eyes. "This is better than any birthday present."

"It can be like our little hideaway," she sighed, leaning into him. He welcomed the warmth of her slim body. "We can come here when we want to just get away from the world, and be alone."

"I love you," Link said, lifting her chin up with his fingers.

"I love you, too," she replied quietly, letting him kiss her softly. She ran a hand through his shaggy blond hair as he stared out across the landscape, and everything felt perfect. He was seemingly in paradise, with the girl of his dreams by his side, on his birthday. There was nothing that could ruin this moment. Nothing...

Suddenly, they heard a large boom coming from behind. Scrambling to their feet, they turned around to face the forest. Rising above the trees was a large puff of smoke that seemed to be coming from...

"The camp!" they both cried in unison, and then began rushing through the forest's labyrinth to reach their destination. Everything was a blur for Link; he could only see Damita running nimbly by his side, and the trees rushed by in a foggy blur, and for a few minutes, everything was silent. He could only hear Damita's heavy, worried breathing, and his footsteps on the leaves beneath him.

After what seemed like centuries, they ran out together to the camp. Damita gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth in horrified shock. Link's hands clenched into fists, and his face took on an angry and determined expression. There, right before their eyes, the evil soldiers of the enemy were invading the camp: the radical camp. They rampaged, crushing everything and anything in their paths. The men and women were fighting bravely, trying to fend them off and escaping their burning house.

Without a word, Link and Damita looked at each other, giving each other quick nods. Then, they sprinted into the chaos, unsheathing their swords. Link gritted his teeth as he raised his sword, letting it come down on the first invader in his path. He became engaged in numerous battles, easily outsmarting each and every radical he came across. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Damita swinging her two sabers and quickly crushing the enemy's defenses. Men, glassy-eyed and bloody, lay crumpled at her feet. Her expression was one of ferocity, and the softness of her features was gone. By now, Link could barely tell who was friend and who was foe. Smoke was rising and burdened his eyesight, and everything was a blur.

Link's heart became heavy from all of the death that he was seeing, and it gave him immense pain to watch his fellow men fall at the hands of these barbarians. Slowly but surely, the number of radicals was beginning to decline, and Link felt the triumph beginning to rush through his veins. But just when he thought victory was theirs, they heard a strange whistling sound. Link looked around frantically, and immediately, his eyes fell on a large barrel a few yards away. In the barrel, an arrow was embedded, and fire was beginning to spread through the container. Damita and Link looked at each other with wide eyes, and then, Link knew what was happening. The first thing that crossed his mind was protecting her at _all_ costs.

"Damita! Get down!" he leapt at the love of his life, pulling her to the ground and protecting her in his arms. Just as they crouched, a large explosion of flame erupted where they had just been standing. Link flinched at the sounds of screams and burning that reached his ears. He could see tears running down Damita's cheeks as she closed her eyes tightly, still holding onto her swords for dear life.

Link hurried to his feet, helping Damita do the same. She was trembling ever so slightly, but he knew that she would never admit to that fact. She was not one to show any weakness. Still determined to continue, she retained her harsh expression and ran her swords against each other, creating sparks. Link nodded to her, lifting his own, blue-hilted sword.

Suddenly, before he could really process what was happening, a shadow was cast across Damita, and a dark figure appeared behind her. It was a large, dark horse with bright red eyes. And on top of the horse was a black figure, his silhouette emphasized by the fire burning behind him.

"Damita! Watch out!" Link took a step forward, screaming as loudly as he could to warn the oblivious warrior. Just as she turned around, the large horse reared, and the man cackled evilly. Before she could so much as lift her sabers, a large, beefy arm reached down and wrapped around her neck. Damita dropped the swords, clutching at the arm blocking her windpipes.

"Put her down!" Link cried, stepping forward to save her. Right now, there was only one thing on his mind: keeping Damita from harm. Simply seeing her in any form of pain made his heart pound unbelievably hard, and he would do anything to protect her.

"Link!" she managed to squeak once before he felt a sharp, shooting pain run through his shoulder. He let out a bloodcurdling scream as he fell to his knees, clutching the gash on his right shoulder. Glancing back, he saw a soldier looming over him, wielding the bloody sword that had just cut through Link's flesh. The world began spinning, and Damita's figure began to blur. Unable to sustain himself, he fell to the ground, his face being splattered with dirt.

"...D-Damita..." he panted, blackness beginning to take over his sights. That last thing he saw before slipping into unconsciousness was the man on the horse galloping away from the battlefield, with Damita squirming in his arms. "No."

* * *

After what seemed like centuries, the blindfold was removed from Damita's eyes. She was at first unaccustomed to the bright light, and attempted to shield her eyes. But she found that her wrists were tied together behind her back with a piece of coarse rope that cut deeply through her flesh. She was on her knees, in a cellar covered in filthy grime. Damita's entire figure was covered in dirt, and scratches covered her skin. All of her limbs ached, and her head was pounding. The only thing she could see when she closed her eyes was Link's panicked expression, and she could practically feel his arms wrapping around her and pulling her in close...

"There she is," she heard a gruff voice say. Then, footsteps approached the bars of her cell, and she stared up at the two soldiers in pure contempt. They were heavily clad in armor, and held a piece of parchment in their hands. "She's the one on the wanted poster, right?" They held up the parchment to the light.

"Who are you?" Damita demanded, refusing to let fear restrict her actions. They both faced her, their faces masked with protective helmets.

"That's none of your concern, is it, Damita?" the taller one spat, as if her name was something to be ashamed of saying.

"How do you know my name?" she narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"You're famous here, my dear," the shorter one declared, showing her the parchment. It was a crudely drawn picture of her, with a reward and her name written below. "You're part of the enemy camp."

"We're not the enemies," she hissed. They ignored her, turning back to their conversation.

"So what should we do? Just keep her as a prisoner of war?" the taller one asked.

"No. Here, we have no prisoners of war," the shorter one said, his beady eyes narrowing through the slits in his helmet. "Where's the executioner?"

Damita couldn't stop the pang of fear from rushing through her, and tears came to her eyes as they unlocked the cell. One of them came in and grabbed her arm. Harshly dragging her after them, they made their way through the dark hallways of this dungeon, pulling her through filthy water and past mangy, scavenging rats.

"Any last words?" They finally reached their destination, a small, dark room without any windows or light of any sort. The door closed harshly behind them, and a hooded figure emerged from the shadows, carrying a large, intimidating axe in his bulky arms. All Damita could think about was Link. The only thing she wanted was for him to be okay. There was nothing in the entire world that could ever stop her from loving him; he was a part of her, and even in death, she would be a part of him.

_I never even got to say good-bye,_ she thought hopelessly. In the center of the room, there was a small platform, and they propped Damita's head onto the platform mercilessly. Strands of dirty, silver hair stained brown fell across her face, and a single tear rolled down her scratched cheek. She closed her eyes for a moment, just so that the last thing she saw before death was Link's face. He was her love, her life...

She heard the executioner step up beside the platform, and heard him lift up the axe. Her stomach flipped as he shifted his feet, and she could feel the tension in the air.

_I love you Link,_ she thought as she heard the whistling of the axe flying through the air. She could tell when it was just inches from her neck, and had to use all of her will power to keep from screaming in terror. She was going to die with honor.

"Stop!" the door swung open, interrupting the execution. Damita ventured to open her eyes, and let out a frightened sigh of relief when she saw how close the axe was to her flesh. At the door there was a man... the same man that had first captured her. He wore a long, dark cape and black armor. His bright red hair was set in tight curls on his head, and his skin was darker than any skin Damita had ever seen. There was a bright, lustful glint in his bloodthirsty, orange eyes.

"I'm sorry, but did I give you permission to execute the girl?" he took another step forward, letting the door crash behind him. The executioner immediately withdrew the axe, allowing Damita some breathing air. The two soldiers who had escorted her began stumbling incoherently, while the man kept his fierce gaze firmly on them.

"No, I don't believe I did," he continued, keeping his voice low and calm. Damita found that worse than if he had been screaming. Though she couldn't see the expressions of the masked soldiers, she knew that they were sweating in fear. The man came closer to Damita, and she glared up at him with daggers in her eyes. He clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

"It would be a shame to kill such a beauty with such skill, would it not?" he lifted her face with his dirty fingers, and Damita growled as she pulled away stubbornly. The man was relentless; he began stroking her cheek, cocking his head as he observed her. "Damita...Welcome to the Rebellion Camp."


	2. The Prison Tent

**Welcome, everybody, to my third LoZ fanfic, An Assassin's Heart! :3 First, let me clarify the setting of the story. It takes place two hundred years after the events of Twilight Princess, so yeah, it's been a while haha. Any characters whose names you recognize are either descendants of past characters OR they have nothing to do with them. You'll get what I mean when you start reading! To be honest, the beginning is a bit shaky. But aren't they always? Haha. I hope you guys like it! :D**

* * *

Chapter One: The Prison Tent

Link stared at himself in the mirror, gazing into the hollow eyes of his reflection. Repulsion displayed itself in his idle features, and for a moment, he became lost in his own subtle disgust. Moving mechanically, he pulled his white shirt over his head and then stood still for a moment. His shaggy hair fell in long knotted clumps across his forehead, and his fingers instinctively straightened them out. Finally, he broke the cold eye contact with his reflection. As he opened the flap of his tent, he grabbed his sword.

The sky was still dark, dappled with faint stars and the fading moon. The entire camp was still and silent, blessed only by the musical chirping of the crickets in the grass. Link wiggled his fingers on the blue hilt of his sword as he breathed in the cool dawn air. On the distant horizon, he could see the dark orange beginnings of the rising sun. He moved swiftly and quietly through the deserted fields of grass and dark tents, taking in the tranquil atmosphere. The path he walked was treaded automatically by his feet; they had walked it innumerable times.

When Link finally reached his destination, goose bumps covered his skin. He was standing in a large, isolated field. The grass in the circular area had been cleared to reveal the solid brown dirt beneath, and throughout the circle were dummies tied to wooden posts. On the far side of the clearing was a house that had long been abandoned, ignored by the people of the camp. The dummies sat motionlessly, looking at him with glassy, button eyes. Taking a routine, cleansing breath, Link stood in the center of the circle and absentmindedly twirled the weapon in his left hand. He cleared his mind entirely and closed his eyes, letting his body melt into the cool dawn sky. All of his logical thoughts evaporated, leaving sheer instinct to guide him.

Link leaped into action, and his eyes sprung open. Without so much as a quiet grunt, he jumped toward the nearest dummy, bringing his sword down upon its armored, pumpkin head. His eyes stared at a dummy, but his mind saw it in a completely different way. There was no dummy; in front of him was another swordsman, heavily clad in dark armor and holding a large, jagged weapon. He was twice as muscular as Link and at least one foot taller. And on his chest was a sign that Link had seen too many times before: the sign of the treacherous Rebellion Camp.

Agilely and determinedly, Link swung his sword again, in a horizontal slash. The dummy wobbled...but the Rebel blocked with his sword. Clenching his teeth, Link continued swinging his sword, and each thrust of the blade lasted a single moment before he swung again. The Rebel was trained well, and easily avoided every attempt. Link's eyes narrowed critically as he hopped from side to side, steering clear of the savage beast's dramatic blows.

As Link became lost in his training and in the whirlwinds of his imagination, he also completely lost track of time. All sense of his surroundings disappeared; instead of on the training grounds, Link was now in a large stadium, fighting to defeat this Rebel that threatened the safety of his kingdom. His limbs began burning as he ran around, swinging his sword skillfully, and his breathing became heavy with effort. His lungs and muscles screamed for respite, but at their screams, he only pushed himself harder. He wouldn't stop until this Rebel had fallen...

Finally, Link found an opening. He stepped forward, jabbing his sword horizontally. The muscles in his arm flexed, and a shot of pain blasted through his arm, but he ignored it. The Rebel was caught off guard, and Link's sword stabbed him in the small opening beneath his arm. As he pulled the sword from the bleeding flesh of the swordsman, he fell to his knees, and Link smirked. He had won yet again.

"Link!" A voice cried out his name and pulled him out of his trance. He snapped back to reality, and with a blink, saw the sun peeking over the horizon. At his feet was a dummy, fallen off of the broken wooden post. It was beaten down and torn and the pumpkin head lay in pieces, but Link suddenly realized that his muscles were throbbing and he was panting fairly heavily.

"My gods, you're always out here so early," the voice continued. With a slightly angry sigh, Link turned around to face the disturbance. "The sun is barely up, and you've already broken another dummy."

"I like training alone," Link replied frankly, running his finger along the blade. Standing in the center of the circle, with his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised, was Link's best friend and most trusted warrior.

"Training alone is fine. But this early?" Sheik rolled his twinkling red eyes, and Link couldn't help but smile softly. "This is the fifth dummy you've broken this week. Leave some for the rest of us!"

Sheik tended to be the only person in the camp who could put up with Link and his angry mood swings, and he was unfazed by Link's blank expressions and blunt replies. He was also the only person who could make Link smile every once in a while. It seemed as if after everything that had occurred, Sheik was the one person on which he could count to understand. He knew better than to be offended by anything Link said, and he was grateful; otherwise, their friendship would've ended a long time ago. They helped to balance each other out. At times, Link could use his humor. At other times, Sheik could use Link's frankness.

"Well, I have some good news," Sheik offered. Link raised his eyebrows. "We found a Rebel wandering around the camp last night."

"Where is he?" Link's comportment changed in the blink of an eye. He fiercely followed as Sheik turned around and began walking.

"In the prison tent," he replied. Then he smirked. "I knew you'd be excited."

Link ignored the snide comment and walked on in silence, staring at his focused expression in the blade of his sword. Sheik strode beside him with a grace incomparable even among the women warriors of the camp. Each step seemed as if he were walking on a cloud, and Link felt stiff and clumsy in comparison. The sounds of life awakening began stirring in the tents that they passed, and the increasing sunlight was spreading out across the area in beautiful golden rays.

"Morning, Sheik! Link!" Inhabitants of the camp who were waking up to complete their usual routines would greet them good-naturedly. Link would nod his head solemnly in response, while Sheik would lift a hand and smile pleasantly.

"Good morning," he would reply.

When they finally arrived at the entrance of the prison tent, there were two relatively large men standing on either side of it, holding spears and staring straight ahead. They wore no protective armor; only cloth and red bands wrapped around their foreheads.

"Hello, men!" Sheik greeted enthusiastically. At the sound of Sheik and Link's footsteps, they let down their guard for a few moments.

"G'morning!" they said in unison, saluting as they looked at Link, and then at Sheik.

"Lovely day for an interrogation, isn't it?" He looked up at the sky with a satisfied smile, and Link mumbled impatiently under his breath.

"Sheik, can we hurry up, please?"

"Calm down, Linkipoo. The Rebel isn't going anywhere any time soon."

"Stop calling me that."

"Linkipoo."

The guards, stifling their laughter, stepped aside to let Sheik and Link through the flap of the tent. He stormed in, while his best friend leisurely leaped in behind him. There, in the center of the tent, was a Rebel. Simply laying eyes on him made Link's blood boil, and anger rushed through him like a hurricane. He was on his knees, while his hands were in chains connected to two wooden poles on either side of him. His brown clothes were torn and ragged, but the print of the Rebellion Camp was clear on his chest. At the sound of their entrance, he lifted his face, where his mouth was gagged. Link was taken aback slightly as he looked into his bright yellow eyes, and fiery red hair fell over his forehead. A twinkle of hatred flashed in Link's blue, feral eyes.

"Why are you here?" he demanded, stepping forward. With a swift movement of his hand, he ripped the cloth from his mouth. The Rebel let out a heavy sigh, glaring up at Link with malice. Yet he remained silent. "Answer me!"

"Link, yelling at him is most likely _not_ going to make him say anything." He whirled around to glare at Sheik, who was leaning on one of the poles with his arms crossed casually. His expression was blank, and there was not even the usual hint of a smile on his thin lips.

"So...you're Link, eh?" the Rebel spoke. His raspy voice was repulsive in Link's ears, and he took on an expression of disgust as he looked down at him. The Rebel chuckled ominously. "I've heard so much about you."

"What are your plans?" Without another moment's hesitation, Link knelt down and wrapped his fingers around the dark neck of the chained prisoner. He laughed again, though it was quiet and hoarse.

"You're quite famous at our camp," the Rebel continued, struggling to keep his voice audible while Link squeezed the pipes in his throat.

"Link, don't go too far. If you kill him, then we're back to square one."

"What are your plans against the Royal Family?"

The Rebel was quiet, and his lips were beginning to turn a light shade of blue; Link's fingers instinctively squeezed harder.

"If...you...were...wondering..." the Rebel gasped with a cruel grin. "She's...doing...fine."

Link was completely silent, but a slightly pained expression crossed his features as his stomach was wrenched. Habitually, his fingers loosened their grip.

"She is quite exquisite. You must feel awful for letting her go like that."

"I didn't let her go," Link whispered, staring at the ground. At this point, he was speaking more to himself than to the Rebel. His heart had sped up significantly.

"But you did," the Rebel murmured, snarling to reveal his yellow, rotting teeth. "And she doesn't care at all."

"Kill him." Link lifted his hand from the throat of the Rebel, who coughed uncontrollably and rattled his chains. "I want him executed immediately."

"Link! Are you completely _insane?_" Sheik threw up his arms in angry disbelief.

"Get the gallows prepared," he said to the guards outside, ignoring Sheik's screaming.

"You can't just kill him! He could have valuable information."

"I don't care."

"Link, listen to me," Sheik lowered his voice and put his arm around Link's shoulder. He chuckled emptily, though nothing was funny. "You can't let him get to you. He's making you angry on purpose. This is what he wants; we _cannot_ kill him. Even if it takes years, we can get something out of him—"

"I don't care!" Link cried, and pushed Sheik away. "I want him hanged. That's an order."

Without waiting to hear Sheik's response, he stomped out of the tent. The guards looked at each other curiously, but Link only repeated his orders as he walked away. He was vaguely aware of the barbaric laughter of the Rebel, and he knew in the deepest bowels of his mind that Sheik was right. He was giving up an opportunity...but he couldn't let the filthy Rebel get away with saying something like that.

"Link!" He heard Sheik's voice behind him, and nimble footsteps. But when he whirled around, there was nobody behind him. Suddenly, he felt a shadow pass over top of him, and in the next second, Sheik was standing directly in his path, blocking him. "It's official. You've completely lost your mind."

Link took a deep breath as Sheik narrowed his eyes, and he saw logic and reason swirling around inside of the bright pools of read.

"Go back in there, and call off the execution."

"No."

"Stop being like this!" he screamed. "You're putting the entire camp—not to mention Princess Zelda—at stake for perfectly selfish reasons!"

Link's fingers clenched into fists at the words flowing from his mouth, and he felt the blood rising inside of his veins.

"I'm the leader, and whatever I say goes."

"Get over yourself, Link!" Sheik cried, and the words hit Link like a slap in the face. Then, he stepped closer and lowered his voice to a menacing whisper. "Get over it. She's gone. There's nothing you can do about it."

He looked away, unable to meet Sheik's piercing eyes. Slowly, his hands relaxed, and his entire body slouched a bit. With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes, only to see the image of the cackling Rebel behind his eyelids.

"I'll go tell them to call off the execution." Sheik read his mind, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Link, just let her go."

As Sheik walked away, leaving Link alone and staring hollowly at the ground, a gust of wind blew by. A sickening, depressing thrill rushed through him, and he suddenly found his skin covered with soft goose bumps. With a twist of his sword, he moved forward, not even taking a single moment to glance back at the prison tent. Instead of moving back to the training ground, his legs carried him to a different location. As he neared his destination, the sound of rushing water reached his ears, and a strange sense of tranquility washed over him. Link, emotionally exhausted, ran his hand over his face as he stepped up to the bank of the shallow, slow stream. After laying his sword on the ground and taking off his boots, he sat down and dipped his feet into the water. It felt cold and piercing on his pale skin, and he drew in a sharp breath at the sudden shock. But after a few moments, the cold turned into peace, and he turned his face to the sky. His entire body became bathed in sunlight.

_I can't let it go,_ he thought in response to Sheik's demands. _Everywhere I go...and in everything I do...she's there._

Link found himself laying his back on the ground to stare up at the clouds. He tried to shape them into different forms in his imagination, yet the only thing he could see was the Rebellion Camp symbol, and it made his heart cringe painfully. It forced him to close his eyes, avoiding the puffy white forms above him. He laid the backs of his hands on his forehead, clearing his mind so that he could think straight.

"...Linkipoo?" The familiar voice rang out through the air, slashing straight through Link's trance. His eyes shot open, and he found himself staring straight up into Sheik's face. His expression was a combination of apology and sympathy. Link simply smacked his lips together and kept his face blank.

"Link, I'm sorry. It's just that—"

"Don't apologize. You're right." Link sat up with a heavy sigh, and rubbed his temples. Sheik still seemed unconvinced. "The only thing I should be concentrating on is keeping Hyrule safe."

"I was a bit harsh, though," he admitted. "Hey, I know what will cheer you up! More training!"

Suddenly jumpy and enthusiastic, Sheik grabbed Link's arm and pulled him to his feet, and he growled unexcitedly.

"We all know you're the best swordsman in Hyrule," Sheik continued with a mischievous raise of his eyebrows. "But I know you're not too sharp with hand-to-hand combat. And that happens to be my specialty."

"Sheik, I'm really not in the mood..."

As Sheik laughed, he stretched an arm across his chest, rolling his neck around as he did. Then he stretched his other arm. Link raised an eyebrow as Sheik grabbed his ankle and lifted his leg all the way up to his ear, obviously to show off his incomparable flexibility. A smirk covered his face as he did the same with his right leg, and then cracked his knuckles. With a grace that Link thought impossible, he bent backwards onto his hands, creating a perfect arch. Link shook his head, and barely noticed the grin that appeared on his face. Sheik proceeded to lift up his legs and balance only on his hands, and his twinkling eyes looked up at Link. Then, as nimbly as a deer, he hopped back onto his padded feet.

"Come at me! Let's see what you've got, pretty boy."

* * *

The entire tent was filled with gruff, hearty laughter. Link sat at a table, leaning back in his chair with a distant expression on his face. A thousand jumbled thoughts collided inside the rapid gears of his mind, and he could barely even process the words that were being thrown out before him. Surrounding him at the table was a large group of men, all joking and enjoying themselves. Sheik sat beside him, taking full part in the merriment; as per usual, Link was as silent as a statue. While his glass was still full in front of him, Sheik's was nearly empty; the other men had finished their drinks long ago. He hadn't even taken a single sip. The clinking of glass irritated Link's keen, pointed ears.

A single, silvery ray of moonlight shined in from the narrow opening in the tent, and Link found himself completely entranced in staring at it. He only turned away when a certain conversation caught his attention.

"Hey, you know what I heard?" One of them, Fado, slammed his glass back onto the table. "I heard there's a conspiracy brewing over in the Rebellion Camp."

"Well of course there is," Sheik scoffed. "That's why it exists."

"No, I mean there's a solid attack that they're planning on the castle," Fado clarified. He wiped his greasy mouth with the back of his muscular, hairy arm. Link sat up in his chair, and almost the entire tent became quiet. The only sound was the gulping of drinks and the silent crackling of the fire burning in the center of the tent.

"Where'd you hear that?" Dampé broke the awkward silence with a disbelieving laugh, and his bald head glistened in the moonlight. The rest of the men began chuckling along with him, but Link remained completely serious. Fado, as well, was not amused. Sheik still seemed a bit hesitant to fully believe in what Fado was suggesting.

"Why do you think that Rebel is here?" Fado lowered his voice to a soft, worried whisper.

"Please, enlighten us," Dampé replied, slouching over the table in that sarcastic manner of his.

"Well he was obviously sent to spy on us," Fado explained.

"Didn't do a very good job of it..." Sheik blinked as he sipped from his glass.

"Who knows? He could've been here for days, _weeks_ without us even noticing until last night!"

The thought made Sheik pause in the middle of his drink, and he nervously put it down. Link's eyes were narrowed suspiciously, scrutinizing Fado as he waited for him to proceed with his strange theories. The rest of the men were still mocking him, snickering at each other and raising their eyebrows. As if on a cue, everybody except for Link and Fado burst into an uncontrollable fit of hysterical laughter. He seemed upset about it, and slumped back in his seat. Link put his forehead on his palm in thought, running his fingers through the knots in his hair instinctively. The night continued as if Fado hadn't said a word.

"Link, cheer up! Have a drink!" One of the men called his name, and he looked up, a bit disoriented after being taken out of his daze. He managed a meek smile and lifted the glass to his lips. The liquid felt relaxing as it slithered down his parched throat.

"Loosen up, buddy," Sheik elbowed him playfully.

"I can't help but feel as if that Rebel is hiding something important..." he replied absentmindedly. "Perhaps Fado is right."

"Maybe we'll finally get to put our training to the test!" Dampé suggested. The men all lifted their glasses in agreement, clinking them together. Link winced at the sound.

"And hey, Link," another man said with a devious smirk. "Maybe you'll finally get to meet Princess Zelda, eh? I hear she's quite exquisite."

"Most beautiful woman in Hyrule, I hear!" Sheik added, throwing Link a wink. At this, he couldn't help but chuckle and lean back in his chair, taking another gulp of his drink.

_Most beautiful woman in Hyrule?_ He thought to himself with a smile. _I can think of one woman who is bound to be more beautiful._

* * *

_**Might be a tad confusing, but it'll get better! BTW, Sheik in this story has nothing to do with Zelda, alter-ego wise. They are not connected in any way. And in this story, he is a male, and his own person. All righty, go ahead and give me your reviews and constructive criticisms, I'd be happy to hear anything you have to say! Just no flames please. Heheh thanks guys! I'll update soon :D**_


	3. Headline News

**Chapter two! Thank you to those of you who reviewed, I appreciate it! I hope you like it! I'm updating super fast right now because it's a new story...so I'm stoked to be starting it and getting it rolling. The amount of time between updates will probably begin to increase later...Oh well! Enjoy :) **

Chapter Two: Headline News

The man scurried through the empty streets, struggling to keep the abundance of papers in his hands from falling to the cobblestone ground. His arms were completely full, and with one stumble, the wind would scatter the papers mercilessly along the streets. The short, stout man let out an exasperated sigh and continued walking. The crookedness of his glasses was irritating him, yet he couldn't lift so much as a single finger to fix them. All around him, the lights of the houses were being turned off routinely, and he was left with the silver light of the moon to guide him. When he glanced up at the sky, a heavy layer of foggy clouds covered up the stars, and he grumbled to himself. He always loved looking at the stars this late at night, when the constellations were beginning to take evident shape and illuminate the sky.

The man's eyelids were beginning to droop with exhaustion. Day and night, he'd been working himself to death. Yet he'd never stayed working as late as that day, and he was completely oblivious to what time it exactly was. Guessing from the aching in his thick bones, it was the middle of the night. There was not a single soul roaming the streets, which quite frankly, made the man feel lonely. He found himself suddenly eager to get home to his wife and children, who were undoubtedly asleep already. Simply their presence made his burdens feel lighter. A small, rosy-cheeked smile came across his chubby cheeks as he continued walking, and his fingers instinctively held onto the large group of papers even more tightly.

He couldn't afford to lose these papers. The Royal Council had been working on these plans nonstop for the past few weeks, under Princess Zelda's supervision, and they had entrusted him with their secret content. He was honored...yet anxious about whether or not he could safely guard them. What he did know was that he needed to be willing to put his life on the line for these papers; it was possible that the entire fate of Hyrule was resting in his short, stubby arms. Though there was a slight breeze blowing through the chilly night atmosphere, the man's petticoat and intricate lace collar was causing him to sweat uncontrollably, and he let out another heavy sigh.

His incompetent legs didn't seem to be moving fast enough for his liking, so he habitually sped up. The cobblestones pained the aching soles of his feet, for he'd been walking around the castle all day long. Yet the image of lying in bed, falling asleep comfortably beside his wife, inspired him to move forward. Turning a corner, he finally saw himself walking down the familiar, narrow alley. It was a shortcut that he constantly used when heading home in dark hours of the night. Though it was significantly more obscure than the wide, busier streets of Castle Town, he preferred the time in which he could arrive home by using these paths. The cobblestones were falling apart, as were the buildings, and there was nothing to be seen or heard. That is, until the man felt a fleeting shadow pass over him.

Pausing for a moment, he glanced up. All he saw was the narrow sliver of the cloudy sky, wedged between the tops of two ancient buildings. Furrowing his eyebrows curiously, he shrugged his shoulders and continued on. In his tired state, he could not even find the energy to hum a little tune to fill the deafening silence. Suddenly, he heard what seemed to be a light, momentary footstep behind him. But when he whirled around, there was only darkness. The sweat dripping down his red face only increased as he hurried his pace, eager to simply get home. He'd never heard these noises before.

"Oh, it's probably only my mind playing tricks on me," he told himself, though his voice was far from convincing. "That's what exhaustion does to you." He laughed anxiously, but continued walking.

As if by a strange, dark coincidence, the man's pointed shoe got caught in an unlevel cobblestone, sending him to the ground. The papers flew from his hands, sprawling chaotically onto the floor.

"In the name of Farore," he grumbled. This was not a good time for him to be getting clumsy. On his hands and knees, he struggled to gather all of the papers, which was quite difficult with the breeze that was ominously whistling past. Without warning, he heard the same footstep yet again. His eyes widened as he slowly stood up, leaving the papers on the ground absentmindedly.

"Who's there?" He spun around again, only to find himself facing darkness once more. Fear was beginning to take over the sense and logic of his mind, and he simply stared into the empty space for a few moments.

Suddenly, he felt a presence swiftly approach behind him, and before he could even blink, he felt the pressure of two-ice cold blades beneath the flab of his double chin. They were crossed in front of his neck, and as they appeared seemingly from nowhere, he caught his breath. His entire body turned numb with shock and fear.

"Good evening, Lord," a smooth, silky voice greeted. Then, out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the face of a person...a woman.

"Wh-who are you? What do you want from me?" he cried, unable to move. His voice was shaky, and he swallowed anxiously as he tried not to concentrate on the two swords pressed against his neck.

"...Lovely night for a walk, is it not?" Her whispers flowed into his ears seductively, and he felt a strand of hair brush his cheek. A slender finger stroked the edge of his thick, gray mustache.

"Please, d-don't h-hurt m-me." He turned to the only option he could find: begging. He didn't know who this woman was, or why she was threatening him. Most importantly, he didn't know what she wanted from him. At his stuttering, she let out a silky, musical laugh that echoed hauntingly inside of his mind. It was beautiful yet cruel at the same time.

"Who _are_ you? Please!"

She giggled again, and it was a melodious sound. Yet it sent shivers down his spine and frightened him more than he'd ever been frightened before.

"If you close your eyes...it might help."

Then she swiftly swiped the swords across his neck. The last thing his wide eyes caught was a thin strand of shining, silver hair glistening in the dim moonlight.

* * *

The thick Hyrulean newspaper was dropped in front of Link, making the entire table tremble. He looked at it for a moment with a curious expression, and then turned his attention to Sheik.

"What is this?" he asked.

"Read the front page." Sheik's usual humor and mellow comportment had disappeared; it was as if the joking man from last night, drinking and partying was gone. Link felt a queasy feeling in his stomach as his eyes moved back down to the newspaper. He stared at it blankly, refusing to open his mouth. When he remained silent, Sheik spoke.

"'A Lord of the Royal Council Found Murdered.' He was found in the street this morning with a slit throat...dealt with two swords." he expanded. Then he touched the black and white photo printed ominously on the page. It depicted a short, extremely plump man lying facedown on the cobblestones in a pool of his own blood. His wardrobe was of the high-class citizens, and Link narrowed his eyes as he lifted the paper.

"Keep reading," Sheik said. Anxiety coursed through Link with an unexpected rush as his eyes eagerly scanned the letters, and his brain began aching. "Important papers of the Council that he was guarding are now missing."

Link slammed the newspaper back onto the table then leaned his forehead on the palm of his hand. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, attempting to steady the beat of his heart.

"You know who did this, Link, don't you? It couldn't have been anybody else." Sheik took a seat in the old, wobbly wooden chair across from Link's desk and leaned forward. Link could only nod slowly, keeping his eyes lightly closed. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, and the dangers of the situation began sinking in.

"...I know who did this."

"So I guess Fado was right," Sheik sighed. He blew the strand of blond hair that fell across his forehead. "They're definitely planning something."

"We need to find out what it is," Link murmured. His mind was now on edge, conscious of every thrifty ear that could be listening. After what had happened with the Rebel spy roaming through camp, there could be anybody infiltrating their conversations.

"So we're just going to let them get away with this? With those papers, they could—"

"We don't even know what the papers documented." Link's logical side took over determinedly, and his brain began breaking down every part of the situation that was crying out for attention. Not a single detail could be missed, or it could cost the very peace of Hyrule. "We can't stop them without having their tactics first."

"So what do you propose on doing?" Sheik raised his eyebrows, batting his eyelashes. Link licked his lips as he thought, long and hard, about the next course of action that was to be taken. "For all we know, they're planning a murder right as we speak."

"The first thing we need to do is find out what those papers were. Then maybe we can—"

"We can't wait long, Link. She's the most dangerous assassin in Hyrule...maybe the entire world!"

The mention of her made him cringe, and Sheik looked away with an empathetic expression. Link tried to shake it off and concentrate on the task at hand. The dangers being posed were beyond anything they'd ever faced; at this point in time, Princess Zelda herself could've been in grave danger. If she was killed, then all hope of preserving Hyrule's peaceful state would be shattered. Sheik stood up and began pacing, and Link bit his lip so hard that he felt a drip of blood on his teeth.

"I've got it!" Sheik suddenly stopped, smiling widely. "We forgot all about Shad!" Link immediately caught on to what his friend was saying, and his face, too, lit up in excitement. He stood up from the desk, grabbing a piece of paper and a quill. Then, he handed them to Sheik.

"You write, I'll dictate," he began, and then he, too, paced anxiously. Sheik lifted a thin eyebrow.

"Why don't you write it?" he protested. Link scoffed, though there was tension in the feigned, light-hearted sound.

"Your hand-writing is better than mine," he finally said dismissively. Sheik rolled his eyes in quiet defeat and took Link's spot at the desk.

"You're the boss."

"All right... 'To Shad'..."

**Next chapter will clarify some things. Hahaha I really hope you guys liked it, leave your reviews and tell me what you thought! **


	4. Capability

**Thank you to everybody who has reviewed! It's starting to get a bit more intense teehee. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it! Hope you don't get too confused :)**

Chapter Three: Capability

Shad sat at the table by the window, scribbling madly on the papers before him. His mind was becoming restless as he emptied its thoughts into the leather-bound journal. Beside it sat the _Hylian Inquirer_, taunting him with its black and white letters and dismal photo. His large, round glasses were on the image, serving only to magnify the murdered lord. Shad tried to ignore the newspaper and concentrate on the words he was writing. He wanted to be able to look back on this moment and recall his feelings.

_Things in the castle have become quite chaotic since Lord Gulliver's murder. Fear is spreading through our souls more quickly than a fatal virus. My worries lie toward Princess Zelda, for who is to say she will not be the next target? Fortunately, the security surrounding the castle and the town has more than doubled, so the Princess is fairly safe, I suppose. At this time, she is refusing to leave her chambers. In a more shockingly ironic stroke of fate, the annual Twilight Ball, celebrating the Hero of Twilight's success two hundred years ago, is to be held tomorrow evening. There is much reluctance in the air, including that from myself. Rumors are spreading that the ball will be postponed, but I highly doubt that will occur. Nearly every high-class citizen in the kingdom shall be in attendance, so cancelling would be preposterous and enrage many people. _

_ I pray that Link has heard the news. If he has, then he is surely planning an operation of defense. The princess needs more protection now, and though the Royal Guard is quite competent—more so than in years past—Link is capable of providing more efficient security. Back at camp, they are indubitably suspicious of the content of the stolen papers. Even I am not aware of the Council's secrets. They refused to confide in me. _

"Mr. Shad." A knock came on the door harshly. Shad dropped the quill in surprise and jumped slightly in his seat. Disoriented from his sudden rush back to reality, he blinked.

"Come in."

"A letter just arrived for you, sir," a man said as he strolled in. In his hand he held a small, clean white envelope. As Shad gladly received it, he furrowed his brow at the strange, messy handwriting that had scribbled his name on the front.

"Thank you," he replied absentmindedly. The man took this as a dismissal and swiftly left the room. Shad, now extremely curious, hurried to open the envelope and reveal the letter inside. The first thing his eyes flickered to was the name of the sender of the letter: Link. He grabbed his glasses and placed them gently onto his nose to see the words more clearly, and he read the letter.

It was a mission. Link was reasonably worried about the plans that the Rebels could've been scheming, especially after Gulliver's murder. Even Shad had been aware that it was the doing of the Rebellion Camp; the only person who was capable of such a sneaky murder was a Rebel. Shad had been expecting a message like this, and a coy smile spread across his cheeks. They wanted him to find out the content of the papers, be it from another member of the Council or Princess Zelda herself. Precariously, Shad folded up the letter, put it in the envelope, and placed it inside of the journal. If anybody were to find the letter, the security of the entire Loyalist organization would crumble into dust, so he needed to be sure that it was hidden.

Shad's identity was an essential key to keeping everything together; he was the eyes and ears of the Loyalists into Hyrule Castle, yet not even Princess Zelda was aware. To her and the rest of the castle's inhabitants, Shad was a simple scholar training to become a royal advisor. In reality, he was the most ingenious spy in his entire camp. Even in the Rebellion Camp, there was nobody who could compare to the sleek shifting of gears in his mind and vast knowledge of everything. When faced with problems, he had the unique ability to solve them with logic, reason, and at times, a hint of passion.

"The Twilight Ball is tomorrow evening," he said to himself pensively. Then he stood up, running a hand through his clean red hair. "The perfect time for me to approach the Princess." He adjusted his glasses and paced the room, stroking his chin in thought. Plans of persuasion and execution ran through his mind, and he was paying attention to every single detail of the scheme that was beginning to formulate. Everything needed to be absolutely perfect if it was to work, and Link was expecting everything to be so.

"There's still a problem," he finally mumbled, after he'd planned everything out. "What am I going to wear to the ball?"

* * *

"I have your precious papers." She leisurely strolled in, carrying a bundle of pages in her gloved hands. "Please, give me a challenge once in a while."

"Stealing the Royal Council's most valuable papers is a challenge." The words of a dark shadow, seated at the end of the room, echoed through the air.

She scoffed.

"Yeah, not when you've got a fat guy with no fighting skills, walking through the streets in the middle of the night, alone. I could've killed him with my eyes blindfolded."

"Harness your pride. It will be your downfall."

"Next time you have such a simple mission to complete, send an apprentice, or Rebel-in-training." She rolled her sparkling green eyes ungratefully. "I don't need to be wasting my time on trivial things like this."

"Trivial?" he chuckled. He was still hidden in the shadows. "I thought you enjoyed the excitement."

"There was no excitement in that. He was the most incompetent lord of the entire Council," she sighed. There was boredom dripping from her smooth voice. Then she turned to leave.

"Put the papers on the table on your way out."

"Fine." She let them fall onto the wooden table as she exited the tent, slapping the dark flap out of her face. The sun was beginning to rise, and she made her way back to her own tent. "Somebody should be finding his body soon."

As a warm desert breeze blew through the air, light grains of sand danced around her nimble ankles, and they began itching the skin inside of her shoes. In irritation, she bent down and ripped off her sandals, and then continued waking barefoot through the silent paths of sand. Even in the early hours of the morning, the heat of the atmosphere was intense, and she brushed the matted silver hair from the edges of her cheeks. With a grumble of discomfort, she rolled up her thin sleeves.

"I hate wearing black," she complained to herself. The long, broad waves of her hair began sticking to the back of her neck. The walk to her tent seemed endless, and when she finally reached it, she nearly sprinted inside to the shelter. With a sigh of relief, she threw her shoes onto the ground and collapsed face down on her bed, letting her body become limp. She hated staying up late and getting exhausted for no reason. The mission was too simple; she shouldn't have been the one to do it.

"Damita, get up." Somebody stood at the entrance of the tent, and she sat up reluctantly to face her.

"I've been up all night! Can't you let me sleep?" she groaned.

"Stop being so childish. Training starts in less than an hour."

"I don't want to go train."

"Damita!" Nabooru, Damita's older mentor and best friend, crossed her arms across her chest and raised a thin red eyebrow. "You know you have to go."

"No I don't. I just killed somebody. I should get the right to sleep."

Nabooru threw her head back and laughed, and her bare stomach quivered with the musical sound. The numerous bracelets around her thin wrist jingled as she moved her hand to her hip.

"No real Rebels ever get to sleep. Do you think the Loyalists sleep?" Nabooru asked expectantly.

"Link sleeps..." Damita murmured, without truly realizing what she was saying. Her comportment softened, and a small, clouded part of her brain came out to shine for a single moment.

"Who sleeps?" Nabooru leaned forward, cupping a hand around her ear. But she had heard Damita perfectly.

"Nobody," she sighed. Then, the moment was over, and she clicked back into her rebellious attitude. "Please, Nabooru? We won't let anybody find out! And Master won't mind; I got him his damn papers. What is he going to do to me anyway?"

Nabooru's twinkling yellow eyes narrowed, and Damita could see her magical skills of persuasion setting into her mind. The look on her face was one of hesitant submission and sympathy, and Damita knew that she couldn't resist.

"Fine. But you and I will go train together later, all right?" A smirk appeared on her thick pink lips. "Just you and me."

Damita flashed a beautiful, grateful smile, and nodded vivaciously. With an adoring look in her eyes, Nabooru left her alone in her tent, exiting with a flip of her thick red hair. Finally able to relax, she lay back down on her bed, staring up at the cloth roofing of the tent. As she positioned herself to sleep, something uncomfortable put an unusual pressure on her thigh. Confused, she sat up. Then she remembered the swords still tucked beneath her dress. With an exhausted lick of her lips, she removed them and threw them into the pile with her shoes. Finally, she drifted off into a light sleep. When she closed her eyes, she was in his arms again, smiling and laughing just as much as she used to...

"Hey, Damita. I'm sorry, dear, but you need to wake up." There was a gentle shaking on her shoulder, and she sat up abruptly.

"What...?" She rubbed her eyes. Nabooru was looking down at her. "How long was I asleep?"

"A few hours," she replied. Damita let out a large yawn. "But he has another mission for you."

At that, Damita became alert and wide-awake. Her easily provoked temper rose to her head, and she could feel her blood boiling.

"What?" she cried. Nabooru sighed with a confirming nod. "I just assassinated somebody!"

"You're the one who said you wanted a challenge. And this is definitely a challenge..."

"Not this quickly! Geez, give me a break. It's like I'm the only goddamn Rebel in the entire camp!"

"You're the only capable one, I suppose." There was slight resentment in Nabooru's voice.

"You're capable." At that, Nabooru chuckled and shook her head.

"Yeah, not for this. He wants you to go to the Twilight Ball, at the castle," she clarified. Damita rubbed her temples as she swung her legs over the side of the tiny bed. Her mind was blurry with anger, but she managed to keep herself calm with the conversation.

"The Twilight _what?_"

"You know, the celebration of the Hero of Twilight? It's the two hundredth anniversary," Nabooru explained. "Two hundred years ago, the Hero of Twilight saved Hyrule."

"Oh yeah, that," Damita rolled her eyes. Then realization hit her. "How in Din's name am I supposed to get into the Twilight Ball? I asked for a challenge, not an impossible task! Even I'm not capable of sneaking into a castle surrounded by guards and filled with pompous Hylian citizens."

"He wants you to go to the ball as a spy and get whatever information you can."

"About _what?_ What more does he need?" Damita threw up her arms in exasperation.

Nabooru absentmindedly twirled a strand of her hair around her finger, staring at Damita blankly. Then, after what seemed like ages of simple, questioning silence, she shrugged. Damita brushed her hair out of her face with a swift movement of her hand, and then pressed her palm against her forehead. Her teeth clenched naturally as thoughts ran through her mind in chaotic frenzy. None of them came together to create a plan of any kind.

"Is there a guest list of some kind?" she asked, closing her eyes in concentration.

"I'm sure there is. Only the citizens of the highest classes are invited to Hyrule Castle." That's when the pieces began to fit into a complicated, twisted puzzle in Damita's contorted mind.

"All right then," she smirked. "This could actually be fun." Nabooru furrowed her brow curiously, tilting her head. She looked over Damita suspiciously.

"What are you thinking in that devious little mind of yours?"

"When's the ball?"

"Tomorrow night."

"Perfect. Let's go train."

**OMG...I love Shad...so much. I hope they feature him in other upcoming Zelda games *Skyward Sword COUGH COUGH*. He was one of my favorites in Twilight Princess, so be expecting a lot more of the sexy scholar in this story :3 Teeheee I hope you guys liked it, leave your reviews! And don't forget, I will gladly accept constructive criticism :) Thank you!**


	5. The Snake

**Hola! Okay, I'll be frank: I don't like this chapter. I like the first part, I guess, but I HATE the second part. Of course, I don't know how you are all going to feel about it. So I guess I'll put my neck out there and hope it doesn't get chopped :P Enjoy!**

Chapter Four: The Snake

Zelda stood with her back erect, staring at herself in the mirror. Her expression was completely blank as she straightened the pleats of her dress and tucked away stray strands of golden hair. Butterflies fluttered restlessly inside of her stomach, and she made a feeble attempt to ignore them while making her last minute adjustments. The perfectionist inside of her was screaming, as if there were still tasks to be done. The laziness inside of her whined for a small break. With swift and complicated movements of her fingers, Zelda pulled her hair back into an intricate bun atop her head. She secured the style with her favorite golden pin; it had been passed down through her family for generations. Her great-grandmother had given it to her. She used to tell her that the first wearer of the pin had been the very princess who aided the legendary Hero of Twilight in his quest two centuries ago. Princess Zelda took pride in wearing it, especially on the night celebrating that very legend.

She knew that the guests were awaiting her arrival in the grand ballroom below, so she hurried in powdering her face and painting her lips with a deep shade of red. Finally, she placed the golden tiara on her bed of blonde hair, and as she looked at her reflection, she couldn't help but smile. She looked like the true princess of Hyrule. With those pleasant thoughts lingering in her mind, she turned her back to the mirror and made her way to the door of her chambers and down the stairs to the ballroom. As she approached the top of the winding stairwell, a guard was waiting patiently.

"Good evening, Your Highness," he greeted with a poised bow. She nodded appreciatively in response. "Shall I announce your arrival?"

"That would be wonderful." Zelda followed him down the stairs, where they halted midway. She laid her hand on the shining railing and looked out across the ballroom. It was filled with citizens of Hyrule, garbed in their finest dresses and suits. They strolled across the vast room, mingling and enjoying themselves immensely. Zelda paused for a moment to take in the surroundings of the ballroom; it had been built with the Twilight Ball specifically in mind. On the beautiful stained glass windows were depictions of the Hero of Twilight defeating the King of Evil, and various images of the grand battle.

"Ladies and gentleman of Hyrule!" The guard's booming voice echoed through the room. Silence fell over all of the guests, who suddenly turned their heads upward. Zelda heard soft gasps and hushed whispering. "I am honored to present to you, your ruler, the beautiful Princess Zelda!"

While Zelda smiled and waved, making her way gracefully down the stairs, the audience erupted into polite applause, nodded their heads approvingly. Zelda loved the feeling of being gazed upon, and basked in the attention that she was receiving. It felt like rays of sunlight falling down on her face, filling her entire body with their warm light. Yet deep in the bowels of her mind was that fear: the fear that Lord Gulliver's murderer would reappear and strike again, and perhaps it would be her. Still, Zelda tried to keep that thought out of her mind for the time being and enjoy herself on this most special of nights.

Almost immediately, the knots in Zelda's stomach loosened, and she found herself easily melting into the conversations and merriment of the guests. The private orchestra was playing beautifully, as always, and Zelda was eager to begin the traditional Hyrulean dances. But of course, she knew she had to give the honorary speech commemorating the Hero of Twilight's deeds. After a few minutes of mingling and a small glass of wine, Zelda made her way to the center of the room.

"As you all know, we are gathered here for a very special reason," she began in a loud voice. Immediately, everybody became silent and turned toward her, creating a circle surrounding her. "Today is the two hundredth anniversary of the King of Evil's defeat at the hands of the Hero of Twilight. This ball has occurred every year for two hundred years to honor him."

Everybody was listening intently to the princess as she spoke smoothly, just as she had expected. Her eyes flickered from face to face; some people she recognized, and others she did not. One face specifically caught her attention, and it made her pale, powdered cheeks turn a rosy red. She couldn't help but smile.

"The legend has been passed down for generations. And today, we feast and enjoy ourselves with the knowledge that it is because of the Hero of Twilight. Had he not defeated the King of Evil, Hyrule would not be what it is today." Zelda then turned toward the stain-glass window depicting the Hero of Twilight, standing majestically with sword in hand. "Thank you, Hero of Twilight."

"Thank you," the guests chanted.

"Please enjoy yourselves," Zelda smiled. "And keep the Hero of Twilight in your thoughts."

With that, the music began playing once more, and everybody resumed their laughing and conversing. Zelda instinctively made her way toward that one person who had grabbed her undivided attention, for she could not stand going another minute without speaking with him.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" she asked as she neared him.

"Very much so, Your Highness." Shad bowed with a smile. It made Zelda's heartbeat quicken. "It is a beautiful evening to be holding this ball."

"I agree," she nodded. The music changed to a familiar and well-known piece, and at the sound of the new chords, the guests all found partners. The traditional Hyrulean dances were about to begin.

"May I have this dance?" Shad outstretched his hand. Zelda placed her gloved hand inside his, and became lost in the twinkling eyes behind the glasses for a moment.

"You may." Together, they moved among the ranks of the other pairs. Instinctively, she placed on hand on his shoulder, and he grabbed her waist accordingly. They clasped hands, and simultaneously, began the dance. Their steps were perfectly synchronized and aligned with the harmonies of the music. Around them, other guests were doing the same exact movements.

"You look ravishing, Princess," Shad observed, looking over her lovely pink ball gown. It was decorated with traditional Hylian designs and flared out at her waist. Just then, she did an agile twist, and the dress moved with her beautifully.

"Thank you, Shad," she blushed. "I must say, I rarely see you when you're not studying." He was wearing a dashing black and white suit instead of his usual brown and purple jacket, bowtie, and checkered stockings. However, she quite loved the scholarly look that he always carried with him. At her blunt observation, he chuckled.

"Well, training to be a royal advisor requires much studying," he admitted. Zelda sensed an unusual tension in his voice, but shrugged it off.

"Indeed," replied Zelda. "I doubt you need to be studying, though. You are by far the most knowledgeable person in the castle, perhaps in all of Hyrule."

"That is a bit of an exaggeration, Princess," he laughed modestly. She shook her head with a coy grin.

"I highly doubt that, Shad," she persisted. He fell silent, though the smile on his lips remained. "In fact, you're probably more capable than the advisors that I have right now." The two of them spun outwards for a few moments, and then spun back in expertly.

"Princess, I have a question, if you do not mind me asking."

"I do not mind at all. Continue, Shad."

"Well, it is concerning the robbing of the Council's papers a few days ago."

Zelda's comportment suddenly became solemn, and her ebbed fears resurfaced. The memories of that evening rushed back to her unpleasantly; the smile disappeared from her porcelain features. For a few thrilling moments, there was silence between the two of them.

"What about them?"

"Why were they so important? What I mean to say is, why would somebody want to steal them in the first place?" he continued. Zelda sighed heavily, and her voice dropped.

"I'm not sure if you're aware of this, Shad," she replied. He inched closer instinctively, and her face became automatically warmer. "But the Council and I have been encountering numerous problems."

"Problems?"

"Well, for one thing, the percentage of impoverished citizens has nearly doubled since ten years ago," she began. Though the Council had originally forbidden her to speak of this subject to anybody, Zelda fully trusted Shad. After all, he was going to be a royal advisor someday anyway.

"Is that the only problem?"

"Well," Zelda paused, unsure about continuing. On one hand, she was hesitant to relay the secret information to Shad, who was not qualified. On the other hand, he was such an ingenious man, and she was eager to let him hear her thoughts. He gazed at her expectantly.

"Shad, please don't tell anybody," she whispered pleadingly. He furrowed his brow and nodded reassuringly, and Zelda broke eye contact for a moment to do another elegant twirl. She dropped her voice even lower and shakily began the explanation. "Throughout the past couple of weeks, there has been a series of...kidnappings."

At this, Shad raised his eyebrows in surprise. That had not been what he'd expected, Zelda could see.

"We were creating secret profiles of the victims. And we were also designating a small group to go investigate. But you must know, Shad, that if anybody found out about this, it would be disastrous. First of all, the entire kingdom would fall into a state of panic. Second of all, if the identities of the secret investigation group were known, then the entire plan would fail."

"How many people have been kidnapped?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"About ten, and we have no idea where they are or how they disappeared." Zelda sighed heavily and closed her eyes for a moment. "And, also in that pile of papers...well, we received numerous complaints from the Gorons and the Zoras."

"Complaints...? About what, exactly?" Shad narrowed his deep brown eyes. "We've been at harmony with the Gorons and the Zoras for at least three hundred years!"

"I know," she nodded solemnly. The words were now flowing from her mouth with no control; Shad seemed to have that power over her. "Apparently there have been kidnappings among their people as well, and they suspect it as our doing. Princess Laruto and Darunia, the Goron patriarch, are positively furious.

"If somebody outside the Royal Council found out about the kidnappings, they would be even more furious. And now that the papers are stolen, who knows? Before long, everything could be revealed, and Hyrule could crumble. The trust of the people is what sustains this kingdom, and without that, everything will collapse."

Shad took on a pensive expression, and she noticed his eyes become shiny in concentration. She felt a burden lift off of her shoulders with those final words, and they continued dancing in complete silence. He was deep in thought...and she was reeling from the magnitude of the situation she had just described. The dance ended, and they stopped abruptly. They stared at each other for a few moments, and Zelda smiled somewhat bashfully.

"Princess, may I have this dance?" A tap came on her shoulder as the next dance began, and she gave Shad one final, trusting smile before turning to face her new partner.

"You may." She was barely aware of who the suitor even was, for she was still drowning in the complexity of her thoughts. Her legs moved robotically with the music, and the fire in her step had disappeared. Glancing back, she saw Shad dancing with another woman as well; she was a beautiful, silver-haired girl whom Zelda didn't recognize. Turning away, she shrunk back into her thoughts.

_If somebody found out..._ she thought. _My life would be at stake, and more importantly, the peace of Hyrule would be shattered._

* * *

Damita walked contently into Hyrule Castle Town, humming happily to herself. She was wearing an elegant, thin black dress, and her silver hair was pulled back from her twinkling green eyes in a formal manner. Everything about this night seemed perfect; the sun was setting ominously, the stars were only faint, and the streets were busy in celebration. All around her, Damita saw colorful, intricate tapestries hanging down from shops and homes, showing depictions of the Hero of Twilight. She stopped in front of one of them, staring at it intently. With her hands clasped behind her back, she rocked back and forth on her heels. There was something strangely familiar about the Hero of Twilight. The blond hair and feral blue eyes reminded her of somebody, she just couldn't put her finger on it...

When she finally realized of whom it reminded her, she winced. Then, chills ran down her spine as the spookiness of the situation hit her. There he was, the Hero of Twilight, staring down at her from the cloth. In his hand...his _left_ hand...he held a sword. It looked perfect for him, and the way his eyes glared at her was piercing. With the face of the Hero in her mind, Damita swiftly turned away and continued strolling around the fountain in the main plaza. Her contentment had been abruptly replaced with uneasiness, and she became covered in goose bumps. Every time she closed her eyes now, all she saw was Link, side by side with the Hero of Twilight.

As Damita sat down on the edge of the fountain, letting the spurts of water spray her slouched back, children ran around her, their laughter filling the air. Couples walked together along the cobblestone streets, hand in hand, and families exchanged their happiness with each other. Music played cheerily, and she felt somehow alone, even in this busy and rushing atmosphere. Each person who walked past, even those who spared her a passing glance, didn't pause for a single second. Of course there were the eyes of some of the men that lingered on her face, but nevertheless, they continued walking. The sight of a young and beautiful Hylian girl with silver hair, sitting alone on the night of the Twilight Ball, caused no hesitation.

_I suppose the guests of the Twilight Ball will be arriving soon,_ she thought, taking note of the setting sun. With a forlorn expression, she stood from her position, straightening the pleats in her dress, and moved back to the exit of Hyrule Castle Town. Guards surrounded the outskirts of the town, and they stood erect at the entrance. Damita walked out without so much as a passing glance towards them, and they accordingly took no heed to her graceful strides into Hyrule Field. She hid the smirk that was eager to slip into the subtlety of her features.

Silently, Damita continued walking along the surrounding barrier of Castle Town. The thick stonewall rose up high to guard the town and the castle, which were both hugged tightly into the circle. For a few yards, she was alone. Then, she noticed the guards that were stationed periodically along the wall, diligently guarding the protective barrier from any intruders. The sight filled her entire body with excitement. This was a challenge worth attacking, and she was going to do it with a smile on her face.

Glancing upwards, she saw men also standing on top of the walls, creating more security. Damita knew that all of this was initially because of her; after her little murder the day before, she knew things were going to get chaotic. Staying silent and out of their keen sights, Damita reached beneath her elegant, formal black dress and pulled out her swords. Twisting them expertly in her hands, she leaned back against the wall to prepare herself.

_And now,_ she thought with a snicker. _The fun begins. _

Without a single sound, she began moving swiftly toward the first guard. He heard her light footsteps and turned abruptly to face her, raising his spear. Before he could make a move or even open his mouth and call for help, she jumped forward and brought her elbow down on the side of his neck. Completely quiet, he crumpled to the ground. The other guards did not even notice, and Damita was actually upset; she had been looking forward to a more thrilling battle.

_These Hylian soldiers really are incompetent, aren't they?_ She chuckled inwardly as she stared down at the unconscious guard. _How do they expect to protect the princess with those pathetic skills, or rather, lack thereof? _

As she looked up at the barrier she was about to climb, butterflies fluttered inside of her. This was certainly going to be the most difficult part of the infiltration. After the barrier, sneaking into the castle would be a breeze. The Master's clear, demanding orders resonated inside of her brain.

_"Sneak into the castle, but do not let any of the guards see you_._"_

"Woops," she whispered. _Eh, he won't remember what happened when he wakes up anyway._

For a few minutes, she simply stood there, contemplating the endeavor she was about to tackle. The wall was at least ten feet tall, and unfortunately, it had been built so that it was absolutely impossible to climb. Damita, though, took note of the gaping cracks between the stones. Still, there was no possible way to climb a barrier so flat without some help. Damita wasn't stupid enough to try it. Raising her eyebrows pensively, she crouched beside the fallen guard and scrutinized him. Possible plans ran through her mind.

_Let's see what you've got that can help me..._

She felt quite odd, but proceeded to search him for any equipment. To her delight, in one of his heavily armored pockets, was a bundle of rope.

_This should do nicely,_ she thought in satisfaction. She stuck her tongue out instinctively while she grabbed his spear and tied the rope to the end of it, putting her swords on the ground for a moment. Then she backed up, and began to aim the spear. She closed one eye...brought her arm back...and let the spear fly.

It landed right where she'd wanted it to: just a few feet beneath the top of the wall. The sharp end of the spear cut into one of the cracks between the stones, becoming embedded into the wall as small pieces of debris flew from the stones. Accordingly, like a graceful, slithering snake, the rope fluttered down.

"Perfect," she murmured. Then she approached the wall, grabbed the rope, put the soles of her feet on the stones, and started climbing. The guards still hadn't noticed the beautiful girl who'd silently defeated a guard and was now climbing over the barrier and into the courtyard of Hyrule Castle. And they weren't _going_ to notice her. There was no hope in catching her now.

Assassins like Damita were never caught.

**Yeah. I really couldn't think of anything better. I edited this chapter so many times...eh, I guess I'll see what you all think and make the according changes! BUT, I need reviews to do that :3 Tell me what you thought! Well, I really hope you guys liked it, and next chapter will be the bombdiggidy, I promise :) Thanks! **


	6. Dance of the Snake

**Okay, I like this chapter a lot more. But I still don't know what you guys will think! So, take a look, and decide for yourself :) **

* * *

Chapter Five: Dance of the Snake

Damita discreetly entered the ballroom from one of its many entrances. She heaved a sigh of relief; she'd been searching through the intricate halls of the castle for what seemed like ages, trying to find the ballroom in the center of the labyrinth. To her delight, she arrived just as the dances were beginning, and nobody even noticed her slip inside. She snickered at the obliviousness of the pompous citizens, immersed in their festivities, and without drawing any attention to herself, she slithered into the crowd.

_"Once you are in the castle, go to the ballroom for the Twilight Ball. There, gather whatever information you can about the secrets of the Royal Council."_

Master's voice echoed in her mind once more, and she obediently began the process of following through with his orders. She kept a smile on her face so as not to arouse any suspicion as she fluttered among the guests, and inconspicuously, her eyes scanned the crowd for the princess's face.

Before Damita could make a single sound of protest, an excited and enthusiastic man grabbed her hand and pulled her into a dance. Hesitancy screamed out inside of her head, but she knew better than to show any reluctance to participate in the celebration; she silently danced with him. Just as almost every other citizen of Hyrule, the dance was instinctive to her. Yet as they twirled and stepped, she didn't look in his eyes...not even once. She was busy, looking around for Princess Zelda. She was bound to be here somewhere, hidden in the midst of smiling faces and laughter.

"What's your name?" the man with whom she was dancing asked. Blinking, she looked up at him.

"Um," she paused. Damita took a moment to wrack her brain for a reply. "My name?"

He laughed and lifted his arm, allowing her to twirl beneath it. "Yes...your name!"

The beat of her heart became steady with relief when the dance abruptly ended. Without answering, Damita curtsied and scurried off, hiding herself in between the other partners. Just then, her eyes finally fell upon the famed Princess Zelda. She was finishing her dance with a young, handsome man wearing glasses, and they were speaking to each other in hushed tones. Damita narrowed her eyes suspiciously, stopping in her tracks to observe from a distance. She couldn't help but notice that Zelda really was as beautiful as everybody claimed. Her porcelain features had taken on a distressed expression, and the redheaded man was lost in concentration. Damita grinned, and moved toward them. She knew what they were talking about.

"_But do not...I repeat, _do not_ hurt the princess. In fact, do not hurt anybody. Nobody is to suspect a thing. Do you understand, Damita? Leave the princess untouched."_

His words made her roll her eyes in irritation. She knew that ultimately, he wanted the princess dead; why couldn't they just get it over with? Damita could easily kill the princess without anybody finding out it was she, yet her master was determined. He wanted the princess unharmed for now. Succumbing to his orders, Damita continued inching forward, though there was a bubble of dissatisfaction now floating inside of her.

As she approached, the next dance began, and Zelda became separated from the man. Moving forward hastily, she stepped in front of him and smiled expectantly. Though the man still seemed deep in thought, he accordingly began the dance with Damita. She raised her eyebrows, examining the musing twinkle in his eyes. Licking her lips, Damita began her task of drawing the truth from him.

"A lovely ball...is it not?" she began. He blinked, and glanced down at her with a disoriented expression. Then, he seemed to realize that he'd been spoken to.

"Oh, uh, yes! It is a lovely ball indeed." There was clear apprehension in his smooth voice. Damita, aware that his attention was not fully on her, narrowed her eyes and inched closer seductively. She'd come to realize that all men were the same, and it was time to use that to her advantage.

"You're a very good dancer," she murmured. He smiled...yet he was still distracted.

"As are you."

They danced for a few moments in silence while she absorbed the idea that her tactics weren't working. His attention was not on her, and this only emphasized the importance of what Zelda had told him. Damita chose to turn to more casual conversations.

"It's really awful," she began. "What happened yesterday...so frightening." Her plan worked; his dark eyes flickered to hers.

"The murder, you mean? Yes, it was unexpected."

"And the papers that were stolen must have been extremely important."

She raised her eyebrows as he nodded, and then absentmindedly dipped her. She stared up at him expectantly.

"They were." That reply was not able to satisfy Damita, and it wouldn't satisfy her employer, either.

"What I don't understand," she continued, "is why somebody would want to steal them. I mean, personally, I have no interest in the political agenda of the Council."

He suddenly narrowed his eyes defensively, pulling her back up. She gazed at him evenly, refusing to be broken by his suspicious scrutiny. Her stare became a challenge, and she felt the tension in his body increase. They had stopped dancing...and she decided to pounce.

"Pardon me for noticing, but you seem to know more about these papers than most other people."

He was instantly taken aback at her observation. "I know no more than you, mademoiselle." He stepped back into the dance robotically.

She smirked in amusement. The shakiness of his voice betrayed the validity of his statement. Gracefully, she spun outward and then back against his chest, and when she spoke, it was in a hushed tone.

"I doubt that," she murmured with a chuckle. She knew she was making him uneasy, and she absorbed the uncertainty thirstily. "But it's not my place to make accusations. I'm simply curious about what my ruler is trying to hide from me."

"Sometimes that's necessary for the safety of the kingdom," he defended.

"Really? Hiding things from your own people is necessary?"

"When it means maintaining peace, yes. It is." His eyes flashed behind the glasses.

"I can't help but worry that the general public will get angry," she warned. "Perhaps Princess Zelda should—"

"Tell me, mademoiselle," he cut her off. "Would you divulge to me your deepest secret if it put your life at stake?"

Damita paused, thinking of a witty retort to throw him off.

"Well I don't know you as well as the princess should know her people."

"Even if I were your own brother, would you really sacrifice your safety for a secret?" The man's voice was smooth and determined, refusing to be broken by Damita's piercing eyes. A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth as she sighed.

"I suppose not," she admitted with a grin. "I apologize, but it's only natural for me to worry about my ruler."

"Of course," he nodded, and his voice softened relatively.

"Those papers must have been dangerous." The dance was coming to an end, so Damita began to hurry with the conversation. He didn't reply; she could see distrust sparkling in his pupils. "The princess's life could be in danger, from what you've told me."

"And as such, security is becoming much tighter. It would be impossible to touch the princess."

Damita suppressed her sarcastic retort; this man was very oblivious to whom he was talking to.

"Who knows? There are many skilled thieves in Hyrule," she argued. He shook his head with a smile. "Security isn't a problem for some people."

"No," he chuckled. "Guards will be posted all around Hyrule Castle, and inside as well. All day and all night, the princess will be accompanied by guards. Her own advisors will not be able to lay a finger on her."

Just as those words flowed from his thin lips, the music came to an end. She found herself standing so close to him that their noses were nearly touching.

"Do you see that man over there?" he murmured with a tilt of his head. She turned around, and saw a heavily armored man standing at the entrance of the ballroom. At his waist hung a large sword, and his narrowed eyes scanned over the people diligently.

"Yes."

"Does he intimidate you?"

She paused, thinking through her reply. "Certainly."

"That man is the Head of the Guard. He is very powerful, and he assuredly has the ability to keep Princess Zelda safe."

"Well I should assume so," she whispered. He had just given her all of the information she would need. "Thank you for the lovely dance." She stepped back and curtsied, hiding her satisfied snicker.

"The pleasure was all mine, mademoiselle." He bowed at the waist, and then she turned to walk away. "Wait, I didn't catch your name!"

She acted as if she hadn't heard him, and moved into the crowd of people. She was pushed and shoved mercilessly as men and women scrambled for partners and a glance at the princess, and she clenched her teeth in irritation. Everywhere she stepped, she found herself colliding with some rich, spoiled aristocrat laughing and attempting to apologize for his or her foolishness. She rolled her eyes, and in her aggravation, plowed her way through the crowd until she emerged from the dance floor. With a deep breath, she straightened her dress and brushed away a fallen strand of silver hair.

The music started up again, and Damita watched silently as the guests began their next dance. Avoiding eye contact, her glance moved from one pair to another; they were all so absorbed in their actions, letting the music take them away to a place where they were alone, gazing into each others eyes, moving elegantly in each other's arms...

She coldly blinked away the tears that had suddenly accumulated, and snapped back into reality. Using all of her willpower, she attempted to concentrate on the task at hand. The Head of the Guard stood, as still as a statue, by the entrance of the ballroom. Damita noticed those who were bored and tired beginning to leave, passing by the head with their farewells. He did not move from his position, but only nodded in acknowledgement. His right hand lingered above the hilt of the sword at his waist. Damita bit her lower lip as she looked over him in detail.

Her eyes fell on the very thing she'd been hoping to find. There, peeking up from beneath his armor, was a small sheet of paper. To the normal passerby, it was invisible; to trained assassins such as Damita, it was like a beacon.

_All right,_ she thought, _let's see how tight the security really is._

Inconspicuously, she began making her way to the exit and away from the dance floor. As she neared the Head of the Guard's position, he did not even look at her. His eyes stared straight ahead, as if there were something extremely interesting on the wall on the other side of the ballroom. He seemed determined to never let it slip from his sight, and Damita smiled anxiously. Her steps were graceful and poised, and she was getting closer and closer.

With a tiny yelp, she tripped just in front of the exit, and fell to her knees on the harsh floor. The guard seemed to snap out of his trance at the sound of her shriek, and he turned to face her.

"Oh my," she sighed. The Head knelt down and grabbed her arm, helping her to stand back up steadily.

"Are you all right, ma'am?" he asked in a deep, gruff voice. She put a hand to her head, trying as hard as she could to keep the amused smile from sneaking onto her face while she used her other hand to steady herself on the arm his arm.

"I must be lightheaded from all the dancing," she chuckled. To her delight, he failed to sense the contrived tone of her voice. "Thank you for helping me."

As sneakily as a snake, she stepped past him and out into the main hall, letting the door close softly behind her. Her heels echoed through the corridor as she walked, alone, toward the exit of Hyrule Castle. Then, she pulled her hand from behind her back and gazed contently at the paper in her hand. When she opened it, she knew she had exceeded expectations with this mission.

"New Guard Placement," she read the title of the page. Then, there was a map of Hyrule Castle, perfectly sketched inside and out. "Perfect."

Damita had managed to steal the entire security placement of Hyrule Castle directly from the possession of the Head of the Guard.

_I guess security isn't as tight as everybody thinks. _

In dangerous silence, she slipped out of the castle and into the night.

* * *

**Yup, chapter five! I hope you guys liked it! ...You know the drill ;) REVIEW! Thank you all, I appreciate it! ^-^ I'll update as soon as I can! Probably not this week because I have exams. But next week for sure! **


	7. Weakness

**Sorry for the long delay! But like I said, I had exams! THANK GOD THAT'S OVER. Now I can concentrate on this =3 I hope the chapter isn't confusing, but I don't think it is...ehhhh, we shall see! Thank you very much to everybody who has read or reviewed my story, every person counts! Truly, you guys are what inspires me to keep writing! So thanks! Enjoy :D**

* * *

Chapter Six: Weakness

Link walked up and down along the bank of a river, anxiety being the only thing keeping him awake. Though he was physically and mentally exhausted, he hadn't been able to sleep for a single moment. Last night, the Twilight Ball had taken place, and there was still no news from Shad. Link's short patience was already dwindling, and not even his early morning training could distract him. The sword could not ease his worries at this point. So much seemed to be at stake; the very structure of Hyrule could've been in danger. The sun was barely even rising, and he was already eager to receive Shad's response. Running a hand through his knotted hair, Link swallowed and stood still for a moment, turning his face up to the dark sky.

His eyes gradually drifted down to the surface of the water, where his reflection stared back up at him hauntingly. The thoughts in his head were endless, and his mind flickered restlessly from one to the other. The newspaper suddenly appeared in his memory, and he cringed. There was no question about who had committed the murder, and he knew this better than anybody...even after three years. The burden of the knowledge lay heavily on his shoulders.

As the sun began to rise higher and everything brightened, Link continued staring down at himself. Then, in the deafening morning silence, a familiar voice began whispering to him.

"Link..."

Shivers ran up his spine. Lifting his head, he looked around frantically, but saw nothing.

"Link..." The voice came again, as if from the wistful air. A sense of evocative nostalgia ran over him coldly, and as his eyes bore into the depth of the waters, he saw somebody else appear in the reflection. She slowly came behind him and put her hand on his shoulder, leaning forward to murmur in his ear.

"Link...I miss you."

He whirled around to face her, but there was still nobody there. He felt as if he were going insane as he touched the spot on his shoulder, where he could've sworn he felt a gentle and reminiscent touch. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, trying to clear his foggy brain.

"No," he said to himself. "She's gone...she's not here." His voice was shaky.

"I'm right here, Link."

He turned around to find—nobody. With a savage grumble of frustration, Link crouched to the earth, pulling at his hair as he did. There was a small thud as he let himself sit, tugging and growling to himself. His brain was tingling with a strange sense of agony. When he finally found the courage to open his eyes, he was looking back into the river. In the reflection, sitting beside him, was Damita. Yet in the depths of his intricate mind, he knew that she wasn't really there.

"I love you."

He blinked away the tears and turned away from the reflection. The detailed memories were getting too painful to ignore...

* * *

...Link stretched his arms, and then knelt at the river's bank. Still blinking away the sleep, he splashed his face with the cold water of the narrow stream, and immediately felt more alert. The sun was shining brightly, and further down the path, he could hear the other Loyalists beginning to train. He had the strange feeling in his gut that it was going to be a good day. With a content sigh, he kicked his shoes off and dipped his feet into the river. As he wiggled his toes, he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. An irresistible smile appeared on his face.

"Good morning!" Damita sat down beside him, mimicking his position and sticking her feet into the water.

"Morning," he grinned. He looked over at her, and she was staring back at him happily. His heart swelled in adoration. He had trouble fighting the urge to inch closer to her.

"What plans do we have for today, chief?"

"The usual," he shrugged. "Not that you'll participate in any training I have planned, anyway," Link laughed. She rolled her eyes playfully and splashed him.

"Stop! I do too come to training!" A grin played at the edges of her perfect lips.

"I cannot even _remember_ the last time you trained with us," he continued teasing. Then, there was a dangerous sparkle in her eye.

"Yeah? Well I don't need training to do _this_!" Before Link could even blink, Damita pushed him into the stream with a burst of laughter. He cried out the beginning of her name, but was cut off by contact with the ice-cold water. It was a fairly shallow stream, but it was deep enough that he had to tread water when he popped back up into the surface.

The first thing he saw was Damita rolling around on the bank of the river, clutching her stomach as she laughed hysterically. He spit water at her and rolled his eyes.

"Really funny, Damita," he chuckled, hiding the slight irritation in his voice. She was laughing too hard to answer. He simply sat there treading the water patiently, waiting for her to recover from her dangerous fit of laughter.

"You...should've...seen...your...face!" she finally managed as she sat up again. "One of the best warriors in Hyrule, and you still can't keep me from pushing you into a stream?"

"What can I say?" His tone changed completely; it became soft. "Even the best warriors have their weaknesses."

Her expression lightened as her cheeks turned bright red, glistening in the sunlight. Then, she cleared her throat.

"I don't have any weaknesses," Damita argued jokingly. She had failed to notice how close Link was getting to the riverbank. Her eyes were firmly glued to his, as if they were unable to flicker away for even a split second.

"We'll just see about that..." Just as she realized what was happening, he grabbed her leg and dragged her into the stream. As he laughed, she sank down into the water, in the midst of a yelp. He was almost submerged in his attempts to stop the laughter. She finally resurfaced, and the dark silver hair covered her face. Still chuckling, he parted the hair in front of her face, and found her glaring at him angrily.

"Link!" she cried.

"I thought you said you didn't have any weaknesses." He raised his eyebrows as she suppressed her giggles.

Instead of answering, she slowly drifted toward him, as if she were an angel floating among the clouds in the sky. Just the sight of her took his breath away, and he found himself unable to laugh any longer. Without another word, she wrapped her arms around his neck, letting herself fall into him. There, treading the water in the early morning, Damita kissed him softly.

"Even if I did," she said. "I wouldn't tell you."

Link wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her body closer to his. Their lips met once more, and their bodies intertwined beneath the surface. Clinging to each other in a passionate embrace, they slowly sank into the water. He pulled away for a moment, opening his eyes to glance at her underwater. The rays of sunlight entering the water landed upon her face perfectly, and her hair flowed gracefully around her. For a moment, he had difficulty coming to terms with the fact that this girl with whom he was in love...loved him back.

He grabbed her cheeks and kissed her again, ignoring the air that swiftly left his lungs. After a few moments, however, instinct forced him to kick his legs, making him rise back above the water, with Damita still in his arms. As soon as they reached the surface, however, they were brutally interrupted.

"Hey! Lovebirds!"

They pulled apart rapidly and whirled around, habitually floating away from each other. Sheik stood a few meters away from the river, with his arms across his chest. The expression on his face was a mixture of playfulness, irritation, and disgust.

"Can you do that later? Now isn't really the best time for...ah...swimming." Sheik cleared his throat awkwardly. Damita and Link threw each other mischievous glances. He wondered if her heart was beating as quickly as his.

"R-right, training," Link said as he blinked from his trance. Damita sighed, and he could sense the reluctance emanating from her. He glanced over at her, and their eyes made contact. They shared a moment of magical silence, and with simply the connection of their eyes, they could feel the affection. She gave him a small, secret smile. So subtly that Sheik couldn't notice, she mouthed the words, 'I love you'...

* * *

...The flashback evaporated as Link wiped the tear rolling down his cheek. The entire image in his head shattered, and Damita's gorgeous, secret smile disappeared with it. It was only then that he felt the sun shining down on him, and he realized that time had been passing by swiftly. Dawn had appeared and disappeared while he was lost in his daydreams. After being jerked so harshly from his fantasies, he felt more alone than he'd ever felt before, sitting there by the river, hugging his knees gently to his chest. He buried his face against his thighs.

Would she never leave him alone...?

After a few moments of contemplation, Link stood up and walked back to camp.

* * *

Zelda awoke in the middle of the night, uneasy and restless. The evening's events at the ball continued replaying in her mind, and she couldn't stop thinking about her conversation with Shad. The situation was becoming more demanding with each passing moment, especially after Gulliver's death. Suspicions were spreading through Hyrule like a wild virus, and no matter what she did, she couldn't stop it. The only thing she could do was to continue attempts to appease Darunia and Laruto, and strengthen security. It gave her little comfort knowing that the new security plan was already under way.

She sat up in bed, now wide-awake and anxious. The large room was silent, and in the moonlight shining through the window, she saw the vast number of disorganized papers on her desk. Just looking at the disarray made her head ache in dread. There were times when she wished she weren't a princess...there were so many responsibilities. Yet at the same time, she loved it. All traces of sleep disappeared from her features as she stepped out of bed and into her slippers. The world still remained silent in the midst of her movements.

Zelda pulled her blonde hair from her face with the pink ribbon on her nightstand, and then lit the candle as well. Still in her silky nightgown, she picked up the candle and left the room, closing the door on her chaotic political agenda. Outside of her room, all throughout the castle, there was nobody. Walking instinctively through the corridors, though, Zelda knew how much security surrounded the outside of the castle. And besides, being alone in her palace gave her a strange, soothing comfort. She loved knowing that all of this was hers. With only the flame of the candle and her memory to guide her, Zelda made her way to the first floor. There was still darkness, as if not a single mouse dared to enter her castle. The thought made her grin to herself.

In her daydreaming, she lost track of where she even was. When she finally snapped back into reality, she was in the main hallway, standing in front of two huge wooden doors. Her excitement flared, and with a push of her delicate hand, she opened the doors and entered her favorite room in the entire castle: the library. As soon as she stepped into the large room, she instantly felt more comfortable. The library had been her favorite spot ever since she was little, and she spent time here when she was stressed. There was nothing she loved more than curling up in an armchair and reading a good book.

Zelda made her way to the other side of the library, where a table was set up. Placing the candle on the table, she looked around in wonder. It never failed to amaze her. The ceiling of the library was a lovely dome, and almost the entire room, walls and all, was constructed of glass. She could stare up and find herself gazing into the night sky, where the moon and stars were glowing brightly. The ceiling and back wall was a grand, magnificent window all in its own. And she had never been able to count the number of shelves embellishing the room. There were books as far as the eye could see...it made her quite giddy.

The princess had worked herself into a state of absolute ecstasy, and since the moon was bright enough to vaguely light up the paths of the library, she put the candle on the table. Then, with a certain fire in her step, she pranced to one of the shelves. She walked among the labyrinth of shelves for what seemed like an eternity, and the smile on her lips never faltered.

_Oh, here it is!_ She stopped in front of one of the shelves, even though she'd known all along where the book was. Eagerly, she plucked it from its resting spot and held it in her hands for a while, simply admiring the old, shaky binding and beautiful details on the cover. She practically ran back to her small reading alcove, hugging the book to her chest. In public, or even with her advisors, Zelda would never act this way. As a princess, she needed to stay composed...but alone, in a library with every book she could ever ask for, in the middle of a beautiful night, she couldn't help it.

Zelda jumped into her favorite armchair, and the area was lit up perfectly by the small candle and white moon. She curled up her legs and opened the book, and her eyes were nearly popping out of her head as they began reading the words. It made her feel even more special knowing that not many people could read a book this old; the ancient Hylian in which it was written was quite a difficult dialect, but as princess, she had learned how to read and write the language from a very young age. Zelda had read this book at least ten times, yet she never got bored of it. Each time she read it, she always seemed to discover something new. Reading it took her to a different world, where there was magic at every turn and courageous heroes. Not many people remembered the legend nowadays, but Zelda could never forget it: it was the story of the legendary Hero of Time. She had it memorized almost word for word.

_When the Hero pulled the Blade of Evil's Bane from the Pedestal of Time, he fell into a deep slumber for seven long years...and in those seven years, the King of Thieves harnessed the Triforce's power and laid waste to the land._

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as the details unfurled before her. The legend had become a controversial issue nowadays, for many believed that it had never really happened. Zelda, however, knew that it had. Just as the Hero of Twilight would be but a myth centuries from now, the Hero of Time was a myth, but Zelda knew that every single word of the story was true. She didn't notice the small triangle on her hand flicker as her eyes eagerly scanned the words in the dusty pages.

Once she started reading...she couldn't stop. When she finally reached her favorite part, the candle had already gone out, but the rising sun shining through the large glass window lit up the words perfectly. Her cheeks turned red as she read it, and she felt warmth wash over her. It amazed her, the power of words.

_The King of Thieves, in his clever deceit, had finally found the princess. Before the Hero could stop him, he kidnapped Princess Zelda and stole her away to the castle, which he had corrupted and made his haunted fortress. The Hero was at a loss, and the only thing that drove him to continue was his desire to rescue the princess. After her disappearance, he had to take responsibility for the safety of the kingdom._

The story never directly stated that the Hero of Time and Princess Zelda were in love...but just like many things about which others were unsure...Zelda knew it was true.

* * *

**Hahaha, I know that right now it's a messy jumble of like ten Zelda games combined, but I'm trying to make it work :P I'll update as soon as I can! **


	8. The Tunic

**Chapitre sept! This one is a bit short compared to some of my other chapters. ^_^ Enjoy, and thanks again to those who have reviewed! I LOVE YOU ALL FROM THE VERY BOTTOM OF MY HEART. **

* * *

Chapter Seven: The Tunic

"Damita...good work."

"Thank you, Master." She grinned smugly as the shadow on the other side of the room shifted. He gave a triumphant snicker as she handed him the piece of paper, and as he grabbed it, it disappeared into the shadows. His bright yellow eyes glowed hauntingly in the darkness.

"I must say, this is far more than I expected," he chuckled evilly. "The entire security plan of the castle."

"I thought you might be satisfied."

"I am pleasantly surprised. This makes my job much...much easier." He laughed again, as if he had just found a treasure that he'd been searching for his entire life.

"Master, if you don't mind me asking," Damita interrupted. "What exactly do you plan on doing with the princess?"

There was a harsh, cold silence that came over the tent, and she instantly regretted asking. His attitude changed, and she could tell simply by the way he narrowed his eyes incredulously. She used all of her willpower to continue standing tall, for she refused to falter under his terrifying gaze. She wanted to show him that she wasn't easily intimidated. As she stared directly back at him, hiding her inner feelings of worry, she heard the crumpling of the paper in his fist. Then, without warning, he laughed again.

"I'm sure you will find out in time, Damita. For now, just carry out the tasks I assign you, and you will be rewarded."

The answer did not satisfy her. She had been doing his dirty work for years, doing everything she could to help bring down the monarchy, all for him, and she had received little in return. The thought constantly made her blood boil, and right then, she could feel her face turn red with rage.

"When? What reward do you have in mind?" All politeness dropped from her voice and features. She wasn't about to leave his presence without something about which to speak. The fire inside of her flashed dangerously in her eyes.

"You know, not many people have the bravery to stand up to me." His voice was dangerously low, but Damita's fiery temper blocked out all fear...this ability usually worked to her advantage in most situations.

"I deserve something in return for this. I risked my life—no, _you_ risked my life to sneak into a ball, and I want some kind of reward." She put her hands on her slender hips and raised her silver eyebrows. His eyes narrowed again.

"Oh, really? What kind of reward did _you_ have in mind, then?" The sarcasm in his voice only made her angrier.

"Anything!" she cried. Then, she gave a devilish grin. "You can't afford to lose me, anyway. Your plans are _nothing_ without me, and everybody knows it." She rubbed her fingers together, gesturing some type of money. "And I don't take another step without my reward."

He chuckled in an impressed fashion, but her glare didn't flicker. Then, he outstretched his arm, so that his dark hand became exposed in the light. He was handing her the security plan.

"Beautiful, deadly, and dangerously feisty," he snickered. "You are correct, Damita."

"So...?" She sighed and whisked the paper from his fingers.

"Very well. I know this is something you have wanted for a while now, so," he paused, and she sucked in a breath. "You may lead the invasion. Go prepare your troops."

Damita could not keep the large smile from appearing on her face, and she instantly felt ecstatic.

"Thank you, Master! I won't fail you, I promise!" Damita bowed her head, attempting to conceal her sudden hyperactivity. Before he could respond, she turned her back and ran out of the room, clutching the security plan in her clenched fist. It was early in the morning, and she was still wearing her ball gown. Her hair, however, had long ago fallen out of its stylized bun. It was now wavy and unruly, blowing in the desert breeze.

"Damita!" As if from nowhere, Nabooru appeared behind her. Damita whirled around to find her best friend staring at her with a broad smile just outside the Master's tent. She had obviously been eavesdropping; it was her specialty. It was quite difficult to hide any secrets from Nabooru.

"Nabooru! Did you hear everything?"

"Every last word!" Nabooru sounded almost as excited as Damita, and pulled her into an adoring, motherly hug. "I'm so proud of you, darling. Your very own invasion, can you believe it?" She placed a soft kiss on Damita's forehead.

"And not just any invasion, mind you! It's _the_ invasion...the attack on the castle." Damita pulled away and showed Nabooru the security plan. "I know where every security guard will be placed every second of every day. There's no way we can lose. Not even the Loyalists can beat us on this one. The princess will be ours."

"Don't jinx yourself," Nabooru warned, surprising Damita. "They're more powerful than you think."

"We're more powerful, though!"

"Damita," Nabooru shook her head slowly. "Do _not_ underestimate the Loyalists. Link is the most brilliant strategist in Hyrule...besides Master, of course. You of all people should know this! For all we know, he could be planning a defensive tactic already. That boy has knack for this game, and you know it."

At the mention of Link, Damita became significantly more somber. She could see regret in Nabooru's eyes, but it flashed for a single moment and was gone. Just the mention of his name made her head pound, and she blinked her eyes tightly to try and rid his face from her mind.

"Yes...I know." All energy drained from her face and voice, leaving her despondent and vulnerable.

"Keep in mind, though," Nabooru lifted Damita's chin with her thumb. Then she grinned mischievously. "He would never hurt you." Damita didn't answer. She just turned around and began walking back to her tent. She was now struggling to keep her mind from getting too scrambled. She couldn't let herself stumble now.

"Get the troops assembled," she ordered. "We attack in exactly three days."

Nabooru bowed her head.

"As you wish...General Damita."

* * *

Zelda delicately turned the last page of the book, and satisfaction ran over her body. However, her imagination was still thirsty for more. The sun was now clearly rising over the horizon and letting the golden rays shine through the glass and into the library. They sliced through the misty clouds as easily as a knife through butter. As she read the last word, she immediately began flipping through the book once more. She ran from the beginning to the end, staring in detail at the illustrations of each chapter. They were beautifully drawn, perfectly depicting the events in the story.

There was one illustration of the young Hero, wandering through a forest with a glittering blue fairy at his side. Another one, near the end, depicted him as an adult creeping through the ruins of the once majestic and beautiful Hyrule Castle, searching for the princess. Of course, Zelda's favorite was the very last one, showing the princess and the Hero standing across from each other after the defeat of the Evil King. She was beautiful, even in the drawing, with golden hair and bright blue eyes...like Zelda herself. Her heart swelled with pride at resembling this ancient monarch. As she leaned in closer to get an even better look at the romantic and glorified illustration, the main door opened with a slow creak, and her heart jumped.

"...Princess Zelda? Is that you?" Because of the distance between them, she could only just make out Shad's distinguishable figure. His question echoed through the vast library.

"Shad! Good morning!" Hastily, Zelda slammed the book closed and laid it on the table beside the melted candle. She straightened out her nightgown precariously as she stood up, and Shad hurriedly made his way toward her. In one hand he held his notebook; slung over his other arm was a large, leather bag.

"I wasn't expecting to find you here, Your Highness," he bowed. She curtsied.

"I was simply doing some reading to get my mind off of things," she gestured toward the book. Curiously, he stepped toward it, and examined the cover with a tilted head. Zelda couldn't help but smile at the scholarly—yet handsome—expression on his sculpted features.

"The Hero of Time?" he grinned. "I've read this so many times..."

"It's a beautiful story," Zelda agreed. He nodded, and then straightened up. "And I know that it really happened. It's not just a myth."

"I agree, milady," he said. "There's too much evidence to ignore."

There was silence for a few moments as they looked at each other. Then, Zelda ventured to ask the question that had been on her mind ever since he'd walked in.

"Are you going somewhere?" She pointed to the bag. He opened his mouth to answer, and then closed it again. Her eyebrows lifted. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh.

"Yes, Princess, I'm afraid so."

"Oh. Without finishing your schooling?"

"Well I'll be returning as soon as I can," he reassured her energetically. "But I received a letter from my... ahem..._family_, and I need to go there immediately."

"That's quite understandable," Zelda shrugged. She was trying as hard as she could to hide her disappointment. "I hope everything is okay with your...family, was it?"

"Um, yes."

"Very well. Have a safe trip, Shad," she curtsied. Then, before she could stop herself, she blurted out, "Return soon."

"I shall, Princess Zelda," he bowed again.

"I'll leave you alone with the library, then, before you leave," she chuckled awkwardly. Then, before he had a chance to respond, she scurried past him and out the door, without looking back. She was afraid that if she stayed for even one more moment, she would say something that she would regret. Zelda needed to get out of there as soon as possible before she did something stupid.

All of a sudden, as if the goddesses simply wanted to make life difficult for her, bad news was arriving in flurries. Now, besides having to deal with the furious Zoras and Gorons, the assassin on the loose, and the frightened citizens, she no longer had somebody on which she could truly rely. The life within the castle was beginning to stir in the early awakenings of the morning as she robotically moved back up to her chambers, maneuvering the winding corridors and twisted staircases. She tried to be as discreet as possible and avoid all other inhabitants of her palace. Before the Council's meeting at noon, she needed to calm down and get her head together. Every time something bad occurred, the bubble of panic in her stomach only increased, and she was beginning to get frantic. She didn't know how much more she could take before she would break, even as Princess.

Finally, she reached her room and heavily closed the door behind her, leaning on it for a minute as she caught her breath. There was a small voice in her head, warning her of the circumstances and what the consequences would be if she kept on running away. There was that small, eager little voice, the voice of a true princess that urged her to face the problems of Hyrule with bravery.

To clear the fog inside of her frenzied mind, Zelda moved toward the large wooden closet in the corner of her room. She threw open the doors, and stared at the single outfit of clothing that hung, clean and completely unharmed, inside the space of the closet. Though it had been preserved for years, it was old, and the color was fading. Nevertheless, the sheer beauty and meaning in the simple piece of cloth took her breath away, and sparked a small flame of hope inside of her.

It was nothing more than a green tunic and a pointed, green hat. With slightly shaky fingers, she held the cloth in her hand, feeling the fabric and smiling to herself. She remembered when her great-grandmother had first put the tunic in her possession when she was a little girl.

"Do you know what this tunic is, Zelda, dearest?" she had asked. The young, naïve princess had shaken her head vivaciously with a curious pout.

"What is it, Nana? It just looks an old tunic, to me," she had stuck her tongue out. Her great-grandmother had then placed the tunic into Zelda's arms, and put the hat on her head with a chuckle.

"You know the stories of the Hero of Twilight, don't you, child?" she had continued. In between her giggles, Zelda had managed to reply with a yes. "Well, when I was your age, my own great-grandmother told me wonderful stories about him as well. And you know what else?"

"What, what?" Zelda had been begging. The old woman had lowered her voice to a soft whisper.

"My great-grandmother actually met the Hero of Twilight when she was a young girl, just like you." This had amazed Zelda beyond belief. "And this tunic belonged to him. Someday, my dear child, the hero of the goddesses will return. Until then, you must keep this tunic safe. When he does reappear, then you must give him the tunic that is rightfully his."

"Okay, Nana," Zelda had said. "I promise. I'll keep it safe until I meet him."

Now, the older, more knowledgeable Princess Zelda understood what her great-grandmother had been talking about. If the stories and the legends were true, then the Hero would soon reveal himself. He always appeared when Hyrule was in the most danger, so perhaps if Zelda just had a bit more patience...

The Hero of Time had appeared just as the Evil King had laid Hyrule to waste. The Hero of Twilight had appeared just as the darkness of twilight encompassed the land. It was a cycle of which Zelda was familiar, and though it made sense, the thought frightened her. She didn't know if she was willing to wait for the worst situation in order to find the Hero. Deep down, though, she knew he would appear in her lifetime. She needed to be ready, and she sighed heavily as she closed the closet on the legendary garb. She just prayed to the goddesses that he would come to her aid soon.

* * *

**Hmmmm...I wonder what's going to happen next...When I update, you shall find out! Until then, leave your reviews pleaasseee :) And even if you don't review, thank you for taking the time to read this! I appreciate it! 'Til next time! **


	9. Potential

**Here's chapter eight :) Sorry it took me so long, and let me apologize in advance for its extremely short length. But I made it short because the next two chapters are going to be BIG ones. So get ready ;) I hope you guys like this story, because I LOVE writing it! Enjoy! ^_^**

* * *

Chapter Eight: Potential

Link sat in the grass, sharpening his blade with a stone. Orange and silver sparks flew with each graceful swipe of his hand, and his pointed ears had become accustomed to the scratchy sound. His eyes stared forward, glassy, gazing into blank space. His hands moved mechanically, and by now, he could barely feel a thing. He was sitting in the center of the training grounds, with his legs crossed and his sword in his lap. All around him, other Loyalists were training; some were walking through the paths of the camp, and some were off with the horses in the pastures. But Link just sat there, not even blinking.

"Link! Buddy! Hey!" Sheik sprinted up to him, tapping him on the shoulder. As he was harshly pulled from his trance, Link stared up at the excited warrior with a hollow expression.

"...What?"

"Shad's back!" Sheik grinned. At those words, Link's eyes widened and he jumped to his feet within moments. "Yup, I thought that would get you excited."

"Where is he?"

"In the stables, putting away his horse. He should be out soon," Sheik explained.

"Wait, what time is it?"

"Probably around noon."

Link ran a hand over his face, wondering how he'd let time fly by that swiftly.

"How did Shad even _get_ here so quickly?" he asked in disbelief.

"He left relatively early," Sheik shrugged nonchalantly. "The trip from here to the castle on horseback isn't that long. Three hours at the most."

"Let's go to the stables," Link suggested, beginning his walk. Sheik followed beside him obediently, giving a heavy, playful sigh. Link needed to hear news as soon as possible; every moment that passed, Princess Zelda was put into more danger. If she were to be harmed, then the entire mission of the Loyalist camp would fail. The Rebels would triumph, and Hyrule would fall apart in their destructive and greedy hands. It was the purpose of Link's life to keep that from happening. He was the leader of the camp; it was his job to keep Hyrule safe...whether the citizens knew it or not. Being a secret organization did not take away from the fact that they were the most important group in all of Hyrule.

Link purposefully pushed open the doors to the stable, striding inside with Sheik loyally at his side. The familiar, sweet smell of hay and horse hair greeted him, and he cracked a small smile.

"Good morning!" The stable-hand greeted them joyfully, flashing her bright white teeth.

"Hey, Malon!" Sheik waved. She giggled and twisted a strand of bright, fiery red hair around her slender finger.

"Shad's back there, if you're looking for him," she gestured. Link nodded to her appreciatively and moved back there, leaving Sheik and Malon to their conversation.

As he hurriedly walked towards the back of the stables, where he could see Shad gently leading his horse into a stall, Link was brutally interrupted. One horse stuck her head out of a stall, directly in his path, bobbing her head and whinnying as she cut him off. He stopped abruptly, and the mare turned her eyes toward him longingly. Suppressing a laugh, Link grabbed her muzzle in his hands and pet her adoringly. She whinnied again.

Epona was Link's horse, and his horse alone. In fact, she refused to let anybody else ride her. She and Link had a bond of abnormal proportions, one that even confused him. All that he knew about it was that it was unbreakable, and he couldn't even recall the first time he'd ridden her. They had been together as long as he could remember; she was by far the most beautiful horse in the stable. Her hair was the shining color of chestnut, and bristly white hair fell down her neck in straight, thick strands. Running up her face was a streak of white, and her eyes were the warmest shade of brown. Just looking into them calmed him down. Still smiling, Link walked past her and continued towards Shad.

"Link, ol' boy! How nice it is to see you, my friend!" Shad smiled, and patted Link's back as he approached.

"Same to you, Shad," he replied. "We're glad to have you back."

"Well, after three months, I thought it necessary to return and report in person." He adjusted his glasses. "Especially considering recent events at the castle."

"I appreciate it."

"Walk with me, my dear man, walk with me," Shad said. He closed the stall door on his exhausted horse, and then walked beside Link toward the exit. When they reached the door, Malon and Sheik were still speaking to each other.

"Eh, I'm not really a horseback rider," he was saying, while stretching his back. "I'm more of a runner myself, you know?"

"...I suppose..." she replied uncertainly with a melodious laugh. Shad and Link brushed past them and out into the sunlight, leaving the warm atmosphere of the stable behind them. As they walked side by side, weaving among the other warriors, Link twisted his sword absentmindedly and Shad tapped his fingers against the cover of the notebook he was clutching.

"Any news?" Link finally asked, breaking the awkward silence.

"Well, actually," Shad cleared his throat, grasping Link's undivided attention. "At the ball, the princess did tell me about the papers."

"You...talked to the princess?" That idea was hard to understand for Link.

"Yes, we had a lovely little dance!" Shad smiled, and stared into space...but then snapped almost instantly back to the explanation. "A-anyway, they were profiles."

"Profiles of who?"

"Ahem, profiles of _whom_. Yes, they were profiles of some citizens who have been recently kidnapped. I believe they include Hylians, humans, Zoras, _and_ Gorons. It's difficult to believe, really."

"Kidnappings?" Link narrowed his eyes and descended into his thoughts.

"I assume it's the dirty work of the Rebellion Camp, but—"

"Of course it's the Rebels," Link cut him off in frustration. "What I want to know is why? Why would they kidnap people, even Zoras and Gorons?"

"I'm not sure, ol' chap," Shad clicked his tongue. "But I don't have a good feeling about this."

They were silent, but continued walking. They were both immersed in the depth of their thoughts, and there were a thousand different possibilities that played around inside of Link's head. There were a so many reasons for the Rebels to be kidnapping people: weaken Loyalist forces, gather more support, punish specific people... Shad seemed just as pensive as he was.

"Did Zelda say anything else?" he asked.

"Oh, she also divulged to me that they were organizing a secret commission of people to investigate the kidnappings. Everybody knows that should this get out of hand, the land of Hyrule would fall into a state of absolute panic." Shad shook his head sadly. "That is, if the citizens found out, it would be catastrophic."

"Shad! That's it!" A light flickered on inside Link's head, and he stopped abruptly with an anxious look on his face. "You're a genius!"

"Oh, well, I wouldn't say that..." he blushed modestly.

"Don't you understand?" Link stared straight at him with wide, understanding eyes. "The Rebel leader is trying to turn Zelda's own people against her! That's why he stole the papers! He's the only one who could think of such a devious plan..."

"Link, I apologize, but I'm not following."

"He's going to publicize the victims' profiles and try to convince the people of Hyrule that it's Zelda's fault! That's why he kidnapped them in the first place, and that's why he had Dami-ahem-somebody steal the papers. And the Zoras? The Gorons? They're planning something big, here, Shad. He's even trying to get _them_ on his side."

"Oh, my! You're probably right, Link." He scratched his chin ponderously. "Well, what are we going to do about it?"

"I—" Link paused, his mouth still open. Then, he sighed heavily in defeat. "I don't know."

* * *

A few hours later, Sheik showed Link and Shad the _Hylian Inquirer._ The victims' profiles were printed on the front page.

* * *

Zelda knew that somebody was speaking to her, but her brain automatically filtered out the words. They were just muffled sounds flowing in one ear and out the other, and she leaned her cheek against her palm. Her imagination was transporting her to another world, where brave heroes and beautiful princesses united to fight the forces of evil...

"Zelda? Princess, are you even listening to me?" A sharp yelling that seemed to be right in her ear snapped her out of her trance, and she sat up in surprise. Her old tutor was looking at her with a reprimanding expression, though she couldn't clearly see his eyes behind his dark glasses.

"What? Oh, I'm sorry," she yawned as the creative images in her head disappeared.

"The answer to the question, Zelda! What is it?" His wrinkled old finger pointed at the arithmetic problem in front of her, but when she looked down, it was all a jumble.

"Um...could you explain it once more, Teacher?"

"Princess, you must get your head out of the clouds," he sighed in frustration. "I know you're smart enough to do this. You just need to concentrate."

"I don't have my head in the clouds," she defended quietly.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"All right, now let's continue with the lesson, then." Teacher adjusted his glasses. "And try to concentrate this time, Princess."

"Arithmetic is so boring, though," she admitted. "I'd much rather do history."

"You know nearly the entire history of Hyrule, Zelda," Teacher chuckled dryly. "You need to learn how to be more logical."

"Very well," Zelda sighed reluctantly. With hesitance evident in each of her sluggish movements, she began working out the answer to the problem in front of her. Zelda was an intelligent girl; arithmetic was easy. It was not difficult for her to sit and figure out an arithmetic problem. It was simply boring. She found no enjoyment in the numbers and shapes of the subject; her desires would be satisfied only with the farfetched tales and actual events of her kingdom's history. Even Teacher was aware of this. This was not the first time he had caught her drifting off into her own world during a lesson.

She showed Teacher the problem with a bored look in her eyes, and he glanced over it skeptically. Finally, he raised his eyebrows at her.

"This is...correct." He leaned back in his chair with a pensive expression. At that point, he had once again lost Zelda's attention. Her eyes were darting throughout the library, at the shelves and away from the table at which they were sitting. "Princess, you're capable of so much, if only you could realize your true potential!"

"That's the problem, Teacher." She let her erect posture break for a few moments. "How is arithmetic going to help me reach my potential as princess? I'm not going to be doing much of it."

"Zelda, darling, that's not the point," he rolled his old gray eyes. "If you can keep her head out of the clouds all of the time, you could be the greatest ruler that Hyrule has ever seen."

"No," she laughed. "I could never, even reaching my full potential." She straightened her back once more. "I could never be as great as the princess during the age of Twilight, or during the era of the Hero of Time."

"Well, why ever not?"

"Look what they did for this kingdom!" Zelda was launched. "They helped keep it from falling into the Evil King's hands. And then look at me. Even if I had the chance to deal with such a situation, I would never handle it as well."

"Who knows? They were around your age when they saved Hyrule," Teacher argued. "And I'm sure they would've had the same sentiments as you, darling. It's probably genetic," he winked.

"They had their heroes," Zelda persisted solemnly. The hopelessness of the situation was sinking in. "I have nobody."

"Perhaps he'll show up soon," Teacher shrugged. "Both the wonderful things and the horrible things occur when we least expect them. Remember that, Princess. Now...shall we proceed with the arithmetic?"

* * *

**Short? yes. Important? Yes. Haha anyway, I decided to make it even MORE confusing by throwing in more characters from other random Zelda games! Hopefully you guys recognize the names haha. The next chapter will hopefully be up soon, because my summer break is about to commence! YES! Okay, ranting. Sorry. Haha BYE, don't forget to review and tell me what you though! *u***


	10. Mutual Fears

**Chapter Nine! I'm sort of apprehensive about this one, but let me tell you, it was SO hard to write. I edited it at least twice. And I'm still not fully sold on the order in which it's organized. Well, at the end of the chapter, just let me know what you think about it! Constructive-and, preferably, NICE-criticism is welcome ;) THANKS, ENJOY. **

* * *

Chapter Nine: Mutual Fears

"Get into your stances! Hold it! If you feel the burn, it's working!"

Damita rolled her eyes as she bent her legs and squatted, reluctantly obeying the orders of the training leader. Around her, other Rebels were attempting to stay still; their legs were shaking, and many were sweating and groaning from the effort. Damita and Nabooru squatted beside each other, each with a perfect form. She barely felt any pain in her legs as she stood, almost completely still. They looked at each other, and Damita made a face of boredom. Nabooru's eyes flashed warningly.

"Come _on_! Push yourselves!" the leader continued screaming. She stood at the front of her group with her arms crossed on her large bosom, and her narrowed green eyes incredulously scanned the group of Rebels that fought to stay standing.

Telma had always been a larger woman with an even larger personality. Her skin was almost as tan as Nabooru's, but not quite as smooth, and her eyes were a darker shade. Also unlike Nabooru, Telma had pointed ears. Damita couldn't help but feel sympathy for her because she was truly a kind, compassionate woman, yet she was constantly teased and slandered by the other Rebels. She was only half Gerudo, one with "dirty" blood. That was why she had pointed ears; her mother had been a Gerudo, and her father had been a Hylian. Damita recalled the times when she, too, had been made fun of because she was Hylian. She shuddered discreetly at the memory.

"Stand steady. Keep your fists tightly against your ribs...Don't _move_, or I'll have you stand like that for an extra five minutes, do you hear me?"

The constant teasing had turned her outwardly harsh, and Damita saw indifference flash in her eyes as she continued barking orders. But she knew Telma well enough to realize that she had good intentions. And Damita could sympathize with her feelings; they were the only two female members of the Rebel camp who weren't Gerudos. It had been the origin of their bond, and how they had first come to be friends. In the Master's eyes, they were two of the most important Rebels, anyway. Telma was one who commanded authority, and even with the teasing that occurred, she was feared for her brutal training programs throughout the camp. The best warriors in Hyrule had been sculpted in her callused hands.

"Come on, Telma, give us a break! We've been at this for hours," one Rebel, a human male, complained. She whirled around to face him with narrowed eyes, and her curly, thick red strands of hair flew across her shoulder. The blood-colored beads beneath her right eye glistened in the sun, and as Damita felt her stomach turn excitedly, she couldn't help but smirk.

"A break, huh?" Telma asked, tilting her head. There was sarcastic innocence in her voice. "Are you tired, my poor dear...?"

The man's features became tense, and Damita could see the droplets of sweat accumulating on his taut forehead. Nabooru snickered beside her.

"Well, let me tell you something." Telma moved among the other ranks until she came up behind the man. Gently, she put her hands on his shoulders. Then, she leaned forward and whispered, "Here in the Rebel camp, we don't _get_ breaks." Telma pushed down on his shoulders, _hard_, and he let out a scream of pain as his knees were forced to bend further. Sweat rolled down his flustered face in flurries. She continued pushing, and he continued screaming. Damita's smile unexpectedly evaporated.

Finally, after what seemed like ages of hearing his shrieks, Telma released her grip. At this point, the man was in tears, struggling immensely to keep his stance steady. Telma put her hands on her hips and chuckled, mostly to herself, and walked back to the front of the lines.

"I am the leader of this training, and I will have respect," she bellowed. Almost everybody flinched at her voice. "One more outburst like that, and I'll have everybody squatting for the next _hour_! Do you know what squatting does for you, ladies and gentlemen?"

Unexpectedly, Telma smacked her thighs, letting out a loud clap. The skin of her legs remained completely still over the taut muscles of her strong thighs. Damita and Nabooru had difficulty suppressing their laughter, while the other Rebels seemed to shrink back in fear.

"It gives you muscle, that's what. If you want legs like mine, you keep squatting. Leg muscles mean steadiness, and steadiness means a better chance of winning should you come against a Loyalist. Don't underestimate them."

Discreetly, Damita looked down at her own thighs, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nabooru doing the same.

"In less than three days, you will attack the castle. And let me tell you, the Loyalists could have anything hidden up their sleeves. The more training, the better," she said. Then, her eyes moved to Damita's, and the large woman gave a subtle nod of respect. "So to answer your request: no, you may have no breaks. Keep squatting. Next, we do lunges."

Telma's harsh speech made Damita giddy, and suddenly she could not get the invasion out of her mind. She looked around at all of the other Rebels, starting to realize that these were her own troops, being trained to battle under _her_ command. She could finally be a bigger part of making Hyrule a better place. If she were the one to bring down the tyrannous monarchy, she would be hailed as a hero for the rest of time.

_The great General Damita,_ she thought dreamily. _The woman who brought down the monarchy and freed Hyrule. _

* * *

Damita walked with her back erect and her head held high, and she deliberately ignored the harsh heat of the sun against her mostly bared back. Walking directly at her heels was Nabooru, whose beautiful face was sporting a smirk of satisfaction. Damita, on the other hand, kept her expression as blank as a stone. She was walking in front of a line of men and women, all standing as straight as poles with their hands clasped at their sides. Their eyes stared directly ahead, and Damita relished in the knowledge that they were afraid to look her in the eyes. She could feel the authoritative power coursing through her veins as she walked in front of that line; behind them was another line, and another line was behind them.

"The day is almost here," she began, "where we finally take that leap of faith. With the downfall of Princess Zelda and her corrupted government, Hyrule will be ours. This invasion is of the utmost importance. Failure is _not_ an option." Her voice almost seemed to echo in the air, emphasizing her power over these Rebels. They listened without a single word.

"There are two possible outcomes of this invasion. Either it will be easy...or it will be extremely difficult. Therefore, we must prepare ourselves should the latter occur. With our forces, and with the training we have gone through, getting through the Royal Guard will be nothing. The only thing that could ruin this plan is the Loyalist camp. We have done everything in our power to keep our plans secret, but..." Here, she couldn't help but pause. Her feet stopped in the sand, and the desert winds blew ominously with a haunting whistle. Damita stared hollowly at the horizon.

"The Loyalists can be just as sneaky as us," she continued. Then, the words seemed to flow from her lips without her control. "Their leader is quite...cunning. He has a way of f-figuring out these things. He may be planning his own security plan as we speak, and he—"

"Damita," Nabooru interrupted, putting a hand gently on her shoulder. Damita blinked from her trance at this touch, and Link's face finally disappeared from her mind.

"Anyway, the point is, we need to stay prepared," she swallowed. "So for the next few days, we will be training hard. Nabooru, please divulge to the troops the security plan of the castle. Then, true training will begin."

"Very well," Nabooru sighed. She turned to the troops, holding the stolen security plan in her slender hands. As Damita walked back toward her tent to plan, her second-in-command began explaining to them the security of the castle. Damita rubbed her temples in frustration, and the pressure was finally starting to sink in. If she failed, the consequences were unthinkable...it was impossible to fail.

But with Link as leader of the Loyalists, it was also impossible to succeed.

* * *

Nabooru walked in on Damita in her tent, pacing and panting heavily. Her slender fingers pulled at her delicate, silver hair, and her teeth were clenched tightly. At the sound of Nabooru's footsteps, she looked up, but did not stop pacing rapidly. Nabooru sighed heavily and continued moving forward, recognizing Damita's rare state of panic.

"Darling, you need to calm down," she said. Damita finally stopped, and plopped down onto her creaky bed.

"How am I going to calm down? I just realized that this mission is impossible!" She buried her face in her hands, speaking through gritted teeth.

"What has gotten into you?" Nabooru cried in exasperation. She moved forward and sat beside the fragile girl, beginning to rub her back soothingly. "Just yesterday, you were ready to invade without a care."

"I know," Damita groaned. "But now that I've had the chance to think about it, my thoughts are starting to change."

"Tell me, dear, what is it that you've been thinking of?"

"I'm not ready for this, Nabooru." Damita's head snapped up, and her eyes were filled with tears, a rare occurrence. "I can't lead an entire invasion against the castle. If I fail..."

"Don't think about that," her best friend interrupted. "What you need to do is keep your mind clear and do what you know how to do. Everything will fall into place."

"What if the Loyalists show up?" Damita cried. "What if _Link_ shows up? Then there's no way we can win!"

Damita fell onto her back, staring up at the roof of the tent, and then turned her back to Nabooru. The wise mentor raised an eyebrow incredulously and crossed her arms.

"Damita, what are you thinking about?" she asked. "The invasion...or Link?"

Damita didn't answer. She didn't have to. Nabooru already knew that Damita was always thinking about Link.

* * *

"What do you want to do? I mean, we can't just sit here and do nothing," Sheik rationalized. Link nodded, running a hand through his hair as he paced the tent. Shad and Sheik sat on the bed, watching him. "In a few days, Hyrule will be in shambles. Mobs are already congregating in the royal city, and Nayru knows where else!"

"I-I know," Link breathed. Shad adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"What do you think the Rebels are planning?" he asked uncertainly. Link swallowed and shook his head vivaciously, feeling as if his head were about to explode from the pressure of the situation.

"It's definitely not something _good_," he said. "And it's going to happen soon." The three of them were silent as Sheik bit his nails, Shad cleaned his glasses, and Link fiddled with the blue hoop hanging from his pointed ear.

"I know this is a ton of pressure, buddy," Sheik finally broke the silence. "But at this point, you're the only one who can figure this out. You've been here longest. You know the Rebels better than me and Shad combined."

"Thanks, that helps."

Sheik chuckled and shrugged innocently. Shad shifted uncomfortably and begin flipping through his notebook rapidly. To block out the sounds, Link put his hands over his long ears and continued walking. He was becoming desperate, and found the frustration inside of him ready to burst in a horrid inferno.

"Hey, Shad, did Princess Zelda say anything else to you?" he finally demanded. Shad furrowed his brow in thought, and then shook his head. Link groaned, and his pace quickened.

"No, she didn't. Now that I think about it, I really didn't spend much time mingling during that ball." He scratched the back of his neck with an embarrassed chuckle.

"Do the high-class women intimidate you?" Sheik laughed jokingly. Shad smiled, but Link's face remained in a state of exasperation. He was rarely one to joke in times like this.

"Actually, I danced with quite a few beautiful women _besides_ the princess," Shad defended. "One was actually quite ravishing, though she refused to divulge to me her name. She had the greenest eyes, and silvery hair..."

Link and Sheik's heads both snapped up, and all of the blood drained from the leader's face. His arms fell limply to his sides as Shad's words sank in, and he found himself suddenly unable to think straight.

"S-silver hair?" he repeated. Shad nodded, completely oblivious to his friends' current states of panic.

"Yes, as bright and silvery as the moon," he replied. "Honestly, she was just as beautiful as the princess herself."

"Ahem, Shad," Sheik took a deep breath. "What exactly did you say to this...um..._girl_?"

"Nothing much, really," Shad began explaining. Overwhelmed and trying to deal with the chaos in his mind, Link sank to the floor and leaned against the wooden pole in the center of the tent. He closed his eyes, praying that everything could disappear for just a moment. "She seemed awfully interested in the stolen papers, as well."

"You're sure you didn't tell her anything important?"

"I'm fairly certain. Why...?" Shad was beginning to catch on to their panicky states, and Link buried his face in his hands to block out all of the light for a few seconds. It was making him dizzy. "Link, ol' chap, are you okay?"

"Shad," Sheik's merry comportment had completely evaporated at this point, and his forehead was scrunched in apprehension. "That 'ravishing' girl is...well..."

"Who?"

"She's the assassin." Link finally lifted his head. His words left a haunting, chilling silence in the air. Shad's jaw dropped just slightly, and he stared at Link in shock for a few moments.

"Sh-she's the _what_?"

"Her name is Damita," Sheik interjected, saving Link the pain. "She's a trained Rebel assassin."

"That woman is an assassin?" Shad gasped in horror, as if he refused to believe it. "Oh, how could I have been so stupid?"

"It's not your fault," Link said hollowly. He looked neither at Sheik nor Shad, but into blank oblivion. "It's my fault. I should've warned you."

"I'm so sorry, my good men, I truly am," Shad groaned. "I'm such a blubbering idiot!"

"Don't be too hard on yourself," Sheik comforted with a click of his tongue. "There's no way you could've known."

"Well, how did you two get the knowledge that this woman, Damita, is in fact the assassin?" Shad's face was red and flustered in humiliation, but even in his dazed state, questions flowed from his quivering lips. Sheik opened his mouth to respond, but found himself unable to do so. He looked to Link with sympathy glistening in his eyes, but Link's glassy gaze did not falter.

"Nobody else could have done it," he finally answered. "She's the only Rebel skilled enough...besides the leader..."

"Yes, but how do you _know_ that? What is it about which I'm unaware?" Shad threw his arms up and stood up in exasperation. Link didn't answer. He didn't even flinch at Shad's outburst.

"Well, the story with Damita is...ahem..._complicated_ to say the least," Sheik chuckled dryly. Before he could continue, Link stood up and moved toward the entrance of the tent. He stopped just in front of the flap.

"Damita used to be a Loyalist," he said bluntly. Shad drew in a breath, hugging the notebook more tightly against his chest. Sheik sighed, watching his best friend with an empathetic expression; the scholar didn't say another word.

"Assemble a group of twenty strong, prepared men. We leave for the castle at sundown," Link ordered before exiting the tent. "I don't want to take any chances."

* * *

Sheik crept along the winding paths of Hyrule Field, fully clothed in his warrior suit, and keeping a cloth to cover the top of his head and his mouth and nose. It felt refreshing to finally be on watch after what seemed like an eternity, and have the chance to use his keen eyesight to protect the small Loyalist camp in the hidden alcove of the field. The men were all asleep, though Sheik doubted that Link would be able to get any sleep tonight. He imagined him sitting in the dark tent, staring at the roof with a thousand things on his mind.

The warrior was unaccompanied as he walked back and forth in the field in front of Castle Town, humming to himself softly. He was the only one of the group who could successfully guard the camp in this dark hour of night; it was rare for somebody to see as well as Sheik could, and even Link could not match his hand-to-hand combat skills. Besides, Sheik loved the night. The twinkle of the stars made him feel more comfortable. With a perk in his step, Sheik just continued walking, unaffected by his solitude.

Suddenly, in the distance, he heard the sound of heavy footsteps. He stopped walking, and his humming died down into silence. The footsteps were getting louder with each passing second, and Sheik raised an eyebrow suspiciously. Instinctively, his eyes moved back to where the camp was situated; even as a group of twenty men, the average passerby would never see the camp. As the seconds swiftly rolled by, the footsteps became accompanied by hushed voices and the quiet whinnies of horses. Sheik narrowed his eyes, diligently watching the path from which the voices seemed to be coming. Then, his heart stopped. He could just barely see the silhouette of a large group of people filing swiftly into the field.

Without another moment's hesitation, Sheik leaped gracefully onto the sturdy branches of the nearest tree. Among the leaves and in the black of the night, it would be impossible to see him. He made sure that he had a clear view of the incoming group of people. Some of the approaching figures were on horseback, and some were traveling on foot. In the darkness, he found it slightly difficult to make out the face of the leader of the pack, riding a horse as black as the night itself. The group seemed to get bigger...and bigger...and bigger, and Sheik felt the bubble of fear inside of him swell. The head of the group was leading them toward the entrance to Castle Town, and Sheik kept his wits about him as they neared the tree in which he was crouched. There was an uncomfortable churning in his stomach as their faces and figures became clearer to his squinted eyes, but they failed to notice the crafty Loyalist watching them from a nearby tree.

_In the name of Din almighty..._ he thought in disbelief, and was finally able to catch a glimpse of the leader's face. The group was made of about fifty people, all heavily armored and carrying weapons... about to attack. They all stopped just close enough that the guards surrounding the city walls could not see them, and Sheik took his chance to nimbly leap from the tree and rush back to the camp.

All was quiet until he burst into Link's tent.

"Link!" he gasped, and Link sat up from his mattress without hesitation. "Outside...in front of the castle...a _huge_ group of Rebels!"

"Rebels?" Link cried, jumping to his feet. "Here? _Now?_"

"Yes! And they look like they're about to invade Castle Town." The two of them ran outside, and as soon as they left the tent, Link began barking orders.

"Wake up! Everybody get up and prepare for battle!" he shouted. "The castle is about to be attacked!"

"Wait, Link," Sheik grabbed his arm, speaking to him in a hushed tone. He found himself reluctant to admit his findings. "We have to be careful of their leader."

"We've dealt with the Rebel generals before, Sheik," he grumbled. "I'm sure we'll be fine."

"No, you don't understand," he persisted. Link looked at him with questioning eyes. "Th-this time it's different. This time...it's Damita."

* * *

**It's...kind of a mess...well, that's what I think. What do YOU think? Please leave a review and let me know! Thanks again to everybody who is taking the time to read this ^u^. I LOVE YOU ALL! **


	11. Invasion

**Hello! I'm back wif Chapter Ten :) WARNING: It's even longer than the last one. It might be the longest chapter I've ever written! Anywho, I hope it's not confuzzling! Enjoy! **

* * *

Chapter Ten: Invasion

Zelda held back tears as she sat at her windowsill, staring down into Castle Town. There, gathering in the plaza around the ancient and intricate fountain, was a rather large and angry mob. It seemed as though the entire population of the city had come together in front of the castle, screaming and holding up enraged banners.

"Stop the kidnappings!" they chanted. "Stop the secrets!"

Their shouts were endless, clogging up the frenzied thoughts in Zelda's mind. Everything became blurred together, and all she could think of was the desire to regain her people's trust. After the profiles of the kidnapped victims were put into the paper that morning, this mob had only been getting larger and larger. At that point, Zelda didn't know what to do. These were her people, and she was their princess; as such, it was her duty to appease them and bring about better changes for Hyrule's greater good...but she didn't know how.

Dusk was beginning to fall, casting an eerie shadow along the men and women in the plaza. The princess's ears were ringing with their words, and she was unable to rid herself of the heavy burden that was settling on her delicate shoulders. She wanted to find a way to appease them without using force or alienating any more citizens. Unable to watch any longer, Zelda stood up and drew the curtains on her window. Perhaps a good night's rest would help her. Surely her instincts would kick in and tell her what to do; after all, leading a kingdom was in her blood. It was only natural for her to know how to deal with these kinds of uprisings.

As Zelda sat on her bed, staring at the hero's tunic hanging idly in her closet, a soft knock came at her door.

"Come in," she sighed, blinking back the tears. Teacher, with his old back hunched and his steps small, waddled into the room.

"I came in to say good night, dear," he said in a comforting voice. "The mobs are beginning to die down, if it's any consolation."

"They'll be back tomorrow," Zelda stated bluntly. She continued staring ahead, unable to tear her eyes away from the tunic. "They'll be back."

"I know that you'll find the best way to deal with them." Teacher sat down beside her, giving her a comforting smile. "Even as a child, you always did get yourself out of trouble," he chuckled. Zelda bowed her head, trying to keep her thoughts clear.

"But I'm not a child anymore, Teacher," she murmured. "This isn't a game."

"I never said it was," he shook his head. Then he wrapped his frail arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a caring embrace. "But I know that no matter what happens, you'll get through this. And you won't have to do it alone."

Zelda smiled, leaning into his hug.

"Thank you, Teacher. I really do appreciate it, though it may seem that sometimes I don't," she chuckled uneasily. He laughed along with her.

"Not at all, my child," he reassured. Then, he stood up and moved toward the door. "Get a good rest, Zelda. Tomorrow may turn out to be a big day."

"Good night, Teacher," she said as he walked from the room. As the door closed behind him, Zelda curled up beneath the covers of her bed, but left the closet open. Outside, the screaming had finally died down enough for her to calm down, and she continued gazing longingly at the tunic. It was the last thing she saw before drifting off into an uneasy and uncomfortable slumber.

A few hours later, a soldier rushed into her room. Startled and in a daze, she jolted awake and sat up in bed.

"Princess!" he screamed. "The castle...it's being invaded!"

* * *

Getting past the Guard was even easier than Damita was expecting, especially with the security plan in her possession. She had sent out groups to take out various areas of the Guard to clear the way for her and the rest of her troops, and at that very moment, they were preparing to finally commence the invasion. It was evident that the people of the castle and the city still had not realized the breach that had occurred in their security. The night was still young, and the path was already clear. With a determined flash in her eyes, Damita dismounted her horse in the field and moved toward the drawbridge leading into the town; the other riders followed suit, and soon, all of the soldiers were prepared and in perfect line. Nabooru stood at the front beside Damita, looking over the ranks incredulously.

"The other troops should be awaiting our arrival from within the boundaries of the castle," Damita began in a loud whisper. "Once we enter, there are _no_ second thoughts. All officials are to be taken prisoner; kill anybody else who dares to stand in your way."

"Yes, ma'am," they nodded simultaneously.

"As for the princess..." Damita paused for a moment, and then smirked discreetly. "Leave her to me."

"Yes, ma'am."

Though she was smiling and seemed confident on the outside, Damita's doubts were protesting loudly on the inside. She could never let her troops see the fright that lingered in her mind, and her comportment was to be as hard as a rock; these men and women were relying on her to lead them into a successful mission. One mistake, and the brand new general could lose everything. Even more frightening would be the Master's reaction should she fail. She shuddered, simply at the thought of what he could—and would—do to her.

"Do whatever it takes," she finally added shakily. She was reassuring herself more than anybody at that point. "We must not fail."

With that, she turned around and drew her two swords. Beside her, Nabooru expertly twirled her long and sharp wooden spear. Damita basked in the sounds of her troops drawing their own weapons. There was a long and chilling silence that followed, as if the entire world was waiting for her commands. She simply stood for a few moments, letting the cool breeze of the night chill her bones, and letting the reality of the situation truly sink in. This was to what it all came down...this was Damita's final test.

"Attack!" she bellowed. With battle cries and heavy footsteps, the Rebels hurried over the bridge and into the town, where they would then be able to easily gain access into the castle. After all...the soldiers sent out earlier had already taken out those guards in front of the castle.

As Damita ran onto the cobblestone path of the royal city, she found herself completely and utterly aware of everything around her. It was as if merely the title of 'general' enhanced her awareness of her surroundings. She could see the citizens, shocked and frightened, shrinking away. Her pointed ears twitched with the sounds of their screaming. But she just kept running, ignoring the Hylians that cowered in their presence. In the plaza, there were a couple of stragglers still holding banners and screaming at the castle. She and her troops ran past them without a passing glance.

_So far, it's going perfectly_, Damita thought as the entrance to the castle appeared in her sight. _Finally, the princess will be ours._

"No second thoughts!" Nabooru emphasized as they flowed up the stairs and into the castle walls. Just as promised, there were no guards to stand in their way.

She was completely caught off-guard by what she saw when she entered the main hall of the castle. Stopping in her tracks, Damita caught her breath and felt her heart drop into her stomach.

"No," she murmured. Nabooru growled menacingly beside her. This was exactly what Damita had feared.

There, waiting for them in the middle of the grand corridor, was a group of Loyalists. At their head stood the one person that Damita feared over everybody in all of Hyrule, including Master: Link.

* * *

Link and Sheik quietly but efficiently ushered the troops over the wall surrounding the castle. Only minutes ago, they had witnessed Rebel forces take out the security around the walls, but Link had ordered his men to stay completely still. He was not about to let Damita know that they were there. He could read her, and he could already tell what she planned on doing; her and her main forces were still stationed in the field. Link knew her well enough; she was planning to clear the way completely before going in. It was a clever plan, he admitted, but he pitied the fact that she hadn't been anticipating his arrival. Still, deep inside, he was reluctant to continue the mission. Even as general of the Rebel forces invading the castle, Link didn't know what he would do should he come up against her. He wouldn't be able to hurt her...

"Link, stay focused," Sheik whispered urgently. "This could get ugly."

"I know," Link nodded as he climbed the rope that had just been sent over the wall. "I know."

"You can't hesitate." Sheik followed him, supported by the Loyalists holding the rope at the top of the wall. "She's dangerous. If you get the chance to—"

"Don't say it," Link cut him off. "I...I know what to do."

They left it at that, and nimbly joined the men on the other side of the wall. Reassuringly, Sheik patted his best friend's shoulder, and though his mouth was covered, Link could see the comforting smile in his glistening red eyes. They found themselves in the surrounding courtyards of the castle; they were deserted. Not a single member of the Royal Guard was in sight, and the Rebels who had been here were already gone.

"All right, men," Link began. "Prepare for an intense battle. There are Rebels probably already in the castle, and there are more coming. Be on your toes; simply do what you've been trained to do, and let the goddesses take care of the rest." He paused for a moment and closed his eyes, silently praying to the three golden goddesses. He prayed for the safety of his men, the safety of the princess...and the safety of Damita. The other men joined him for those few sacred moments of prayer.

With Sheik at his side, Link drew his sword and began moving toward one of entrances into the castle. The other troops drew their weapons as well, but Sheik just cracked his knuckles.

"Wait here for a moment," Link ordered as they slowly walked into the dark, candlelit halls of the castle. For a minute, there was silence. Then, the sound of light footsteps reached Link's ears. He motioned for Sheik and the other men to stand still, and he inched forward. He stayed close to the wall, sidling against it as he moved toward the corner. As he turned his face just slightly, he was able to see about five Rebels patrolling further down the hall. Still as quiet as a mouse, Link scurried back to his men.

"Sheik, there are five Rebels around that corner," he whispered. "I want you to go in and clear the way for us. Do you think you can do that?"

"Sure thing, boss!" Sheik nodded, and there was excited exuberance in his tone. The other men looked at each other questioningly as he nimbly tiptoed to the end of the hall. Then, after diligently inspecting the situation, he disappeared around the corner without a single sound.

"Hey, you!" They heard the surprised screaming of the Rebel patrol. "Stop right there—"

The Rebel never finished his sentence. His words were replaced with a short, deep scream, followed by the sound of scrambling footsteps and sickening thuds on the ground. Link smirked to himself, ignoring the worried looks of his men. After a few minutes, Sheik sprinted back to him.

"Taken care of. The coast is clear!" he saluted. Link nodded with an approving smile, putting his hand on Sheik's shoulder.

"Nice work. Let's move out!"

Link's stride was confident as he ran forward, leading his men into the hallway, where five unconscious Rebels were stacked against the wall. He acted like he knew where he was going, but in reality, he was blindly running through the twisted corridors of the castle, praying that he would find some Rebels sooner or later. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of twists and turns, Link and his men found themselves in the main hallway, which was brightly lit...but completely empty, as well. It seemed as if the entire castle was deserted, but Link knew better.

"Talo," he turned to one of his troops. He was a younger boy of about fourteen, and still relatively inexperienced. Excited at the sound of his name, he lifted his head and scurried to Link's side. "I need you to do something very important for me."

"Anything, sir!" Talo smiled broadly. "I'll take out any Rebels you need me to!" He lifted his sword, grinning at it.

"Actually, Talo," Link sighed. "I have another job for you. I want you to run and find an official or soldier of the Royal Guard, and I want you to warn them that the castle is being invaded. Tell them that Princess Zelda is in danger and must be protected."

Talo's face fell, and he let out an exhale of disappointment.

"Very well, sir," he slouched. "Whatever you say."

"And Talo, be careful of Rebels on the way! If you find any, run straight back here. Do _not_ fight them alone."

"Yes, sir." With that, Talo sprinted down the hall. Link felt his heart pump in satisfaction; Talo was one of his most loyal troops. That's why he had brought him, though his fighting skills were still at an amateur level. Almost as soon as the young boy disappeared, Link heard the sound of a door closing.

He turned around and found himself facing none other than Damita and her Rebel troops.

"Oh, geez," Sheik breathed quietly. There was a haunting quiet in the air. The leader of the Loyalists and the leader of the Rebels stared at each other for a few moments. Beside her was Nabooru, a deadly and dangerously seductive Gerudo. Her yellow eyes were narrowed, but Link barely paid any attention to anybody else. His eyes were firmly on Damita, who stared at him with a blank expression. She was as beautiful as ever, with her silvery hair up in a ponytail and her slender figure donned in a sleek black suit ideal for battle. She took his breath away, and for a second, he forgot where he was and why he was there.

"Link...Link, don't get distracted!" Sheik nudged his ribs with an elbow. "Don't let her get to you."

"Sheik, I don't know if I can do this..."

"Yes you can."

"No, I can't—"

"Attack!" Damita suddenly screamed, sending forth her armed and rabid forces. Link cringed at the sound of her silky and familiar voice.

"Don't worry about Damita!" Sheik screamed hastily as the Loyalists accordingly moved forward to meet the Rebel enemy. "You handle Nabooru."

With a hesitant nod, Link lifted his sword and moved into the frenzy. He moved at the speed of light toward Nabooru, passing his men bringing down the Rebels, and he felt pride swell inside of him. They were slicing through the Rebels like cake, bringing them down one after the other; Link barely noticed that they were outnumbered about two to one. His troops were simply doing what he had told them: they were fighting the way they had been trained.

"Hello, Link," Nabooru's voice cut him out of his trance. Instead of answering, Link swung his sword at her nimbly. She caught it easily against the wooden shaft of her spear.

"Nabooru," he smiled with clenched teeth. "It's been a while. Hyah!" He jabbed at her again, but once more, she easily blocked the attack.

"Still as cunning as ever, I see," she breathed heavily, stepping forward and stabbing her spear horizontally. Link stepped to the side with swift reflexes and a graceful twist. He leaped at her again, swiping his sword with elegant technique. This time, Nabooru had difficulty keeping her ground, and he forced her to stumble backwards with his advances.

"I suppose so," he smirked. "I'm only doing what I know how to do." His sword made contact with her spear again, but he held the connection for a minute. The muscles in his arms became flexed as he pushed against her, forcing her to bend backwards. Beads of sweat rolled down her tan face as she struggled to keep the spear steady.

Out of the corner of his eye, Link saw Damita, but Sheik was nowhere in his line of vision. The Rebel general was not taking part in the fighting, however; she was running down the hallway, away from the battle. Link became distracted, and within a few moments, Damita had disappeared. Then, it hit him like a slap across the face.

_Princess Zelda_...

* * *

Her heart was beating faster than it had ever beaten before, and her thoughts were in such a scramble that she couldn't think clearly. Sweat poured down her flustered face, and though the night was chilly, she felt as if she were about to melt from the heat. The cold breeze flowed in ominously from the open window as she scurried around the room, hurrying to gather her composure and attempt to stay calm. Outside, two of her strongest soldiers were standing guard, but Zelda wasn't about to be fooled. If invaders had gotten this far, two guards were going to be easily plowed through. This only made her growing fear bulge. The horror she felt sent chills down her spine, and she had never been so afraid. What the invaders wanted she did not know...but it couldn't be good.

With shaky hands, Zelda ripped the hero's tunic from the closet and stuffed it precariously into a small rucksack. Also inside this rucksack, she put her journal, the book of the Hero of Time—which she had secretly stolen from the library earlier that day—her tiara, and the golden hairpiece given to her by her great-grandmother. The horror shaking within her made it difficult to successfully gather all of the necessary items, and it was nearly impossible to steadily get into her boots and most comfortable dress. For all she knew, the invaders could be at her door any minute.

"What did I do to deserve this...?" she asked, looking up at the paintings on her ceiling. Ever since the kidnappings, everything had been a horrible mess, though Zelda had tried her best to keep everything in check. Tears came to her eyes as she thought of her failure as princess, and the terror that was to follow among her people. Not only were they angry about the secret kidnappings, but they would be horror-stricken by this invasion.

_What if I die tonight?_ Zelda thought to herself. _What if, with my death, Hyrule falls apart? Even worse, what if Hyrule becomes prosperous with my death?_

Zelda thought of her ancestors, who had done so much for Hyrule. She thought of her great-grandmother, and the great Princess Zelda who had aided the Hero of Twilight. A single tear rolled down her cheek, for she knew that she would never live up to the name of her bloodline.

_Legendary hero..._Zelda begged. _Where are you?_

Scaring her from her daze, a heavy thud came on the door. Zelda whirled around, slowly backing up toward the window. Then, she heard two concise, deep screams, and she could've sworn that she heard a cruel cackle. The princess caught her breath as the locked doorknob began twitching, and an outside force attempted to open the door. After failing, there was a pause...and then the door came crashing down.

Zelda let out a shriek of fear and stumbled backwards, away from the fallen door. From the dust and debris emerged a tall, slender figure completely dressed in black. Behind it, at the doorway, lay the two guards with their throats slit. Zelda screamed again.

"Hello, Princess Zelda," the figure said, stepping into the light. Zelda found herself looking into a pair of beautiful, narrowed green eyes, accompanied by a waterfall of silver hair. The rest of the woman's face was covered with a black cloth. In her hands, she held two bloody swords, and she scratched them against each other, as if she were bored. Simply the sight of her stepping from the door she had kicked down sent a thrash of fear through Zelda's veins. When she opened her mouth, terror kept any words from coming out.

As the woman slowly drew nearer, keeping her steps long but slow, Zelda accordingly scurried backwards. She stumbled over books, clothes, and swiftly neared the open window. Her fists desperately held onto the rucksack, as if her life depended on it.

"Beautiful night...is it not?" the woman raised a thin eyebrow, twisting her swords. Zelda breathed heavily, trying to keep her heartbeat steady. This woman was not going to back down...and she had the intention to kill. Though the fear was becoming overwhelming, Zelda refused to let a single tear slip. She wasn't going to show weakness, even in her darkest hour.

Suddenly, as if on cue, another figure appeared in the door. However, it swung down from the top of the doorway, as if balancing on the arch at the top. It hung slowly, and with narrowed eyes, Zelda could make out the figure of a lean man in disguise, hanging nimbly from the top of her door. Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to scream again. Before she could, however, the mysterious man put a finger to his lips, and she could see a mischievous flash in his red eyes. Zelda was frozen with shock, but using her common sense, she diverted her gaze from this figure in the door. The woman continued approaching.

Nimbly, the man dropped down from the door without a single sound. The woman did not hear him at all, even with her long and pointed ears. The man wore a tight-fitting suit, colored various shades of blue and purple. Thick strands of blond hair fell across his forehead from beneath a piece of cloth on his head, and a long braid fell against his back. The twinkle in his eyes was a miniscule comfort to Zelda at this moment, though the advancing woman mostly distracted her.

Still completely silent, the strange man took a few more graceful steps, until he was directly behind the woman. As Zelda continued moving backward, her heels hit a stack of books, and she tumbled backwards. The woman laughed melodiously, but Zelda was not amused. She continued scooting backwards, doing whatever it took to create distance between herself and this woman. Soon enough, the princess was against the wall beneath the open window, squeezing up to it as much as she could. The man followed behind her discreetly, not making a single sound.

"Good evening, Damita."

The woman smirked, and just as he lifted his hand to jab at her, she blocked.

"Sheik." She didn't turn around. "You haven't changed much. Still using the same sneak attacks, are we? A bit amateur, don't you think?"

"Still works every time," the man, Sheik, shrugged. Zelda simply sat, flabbergasted and trying to calm her heart palpitations. The woman seemed to lose all interest in the princess, and she whirled around to face her attacker. She tilted her head, twisting her sabers, and he took a light step backwards.

"Oh, I should've known you would get in my way."

"It doesn't matter," Sheik chuckled. The woman, evidently named Damita, leaped at him and jabbed her swords forward. Zelda let out an instinctive scream, but the mysterious man elegantly ducked under the swords. "You could never beat me, prepared or not. Never could, never will."

Those words apparently angered the woman, and with a snarl of rage, she jumped at him again. There was a smile in his red eyes as he once again avoided the attack, this time doing a graceful somersault above her head. Just as he landed behind her, she swung around, twirling her swords as she did. Zelda couldn't help but let out another terrified shriek. Not only was she frightened beyond belief, but also her confusion was increasing with each passing moment.

"Just admit it, darling," he taunted, hopping backward to avoid her slice. "Your combat skills will never match mine. And I don't even use weapons!"

While she lifted her swords once more, he caught her off guard. He simply lifted an arm, and before the woman could do so much as blink, his elbow came cracking down on her shoulder. With a yelp of pain, the sword dropped from her left hand, and she fell to her knees. The man, Sheik, threw his head back and laughed triumphantly—the laugh was interrupted by a xstartled shout. The woman had swung her legs around, knocking him off of his feet.

"I'm not going down so easily," she growled menacingly. Sweat poured down her face. As soon as his back made contact with the floor, Sheik used his palms to propel himself back up. Zelda's eyes widened in wonder at his agility and unnatural flexibility, and Damita scowled in fury. Much slower and not as gracefully, she also managed to stand up, though her left arm hung limply at her side, and her weaponry was reduced to only a single sword.

"You know, Damita, it's a shame," Sheik said. Zelda, still completely oblivious to any sense that they were making, pressed herself against the wall even more. Everything was happening too quickly for her brain to process. "I feel like if you weren't so distracted, you could easily beat me."

"I _can_ beat you!" Damita, with the grace of a swan, did an intricate twist towards him, slicing her sword. Sheik jumped backwards, but he was a fraction of a second too late. The sword just barely tore through the thin fabric of his chest. A drop of blood fell onto the floor, and Zelda averted her gaze hastily. The man caught his breath shallowly in pain.

"No you can't," he murmured. Without warning, he leaped toward her, and grabbed her wrists. For some odd reason, the woman did not resist. There was an expression of absolute agony on her face.

They were chest to chest, and his teeth were clenched as he forced the sword from her other hand. "You could've killed me by now...but you're distracted by him. I can see it in your eyes. He always distracts you. "

There was a haunting silence in the air, and all three of them became completely still...and Zelda could've sworn she saw a single tear roll down this woman's face.

"If it's any consolation," Sheik sighed. "He's distracted by you, too."

With that, he swiftly jabbed at her neck and she crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

* * *

**REVIEW :) Thank you, I love you all, I'll have the next chapter up as soon as possible! **


	12. Retreat

**Here's chapter eleven! Oh, and for those of you who have read my writing, you know that I love to throw twists and unexpected turns in there. So don't get too hasty with your conclusions ;) Thanks again everybody, I hope you like it, because I really enjoyed writing it! **

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Retreat

The man in the suit, Sheik, stepped over the still body of the woman and began slowly advancing toward the trembling princess. She felt the blood rush from her face, leaving her a ghostly pale color as she pressed herself even further against the wall. He took no heed of her panicky state and continued walking.

"S-stop! Who are you?" she cried, waving her arms in front of her frantically.

"Don't worry, Princess," he paused for a moment, gesturing in a reassuring manner. There was a soft, comforting hint in his tone and warmth glistening in his large red eyes. Zelda, having been trained since childhood, attempted to ignore these charms and convince herself that this killer was dangerous. The proof of this was lying unconscious on the floor of her chambers.

"No! Leave me alone! What do you want from me?"

"Princess, I'm here to protect you." He took another step forward, stopped, and then bowed low at the waist. "Please excuse my lack of an introduction. My name is Sheik."

"P-protect me? From _what_?"

"Well—" As he opened his mouth to continue, a heavy rumbling came from the stairwell, and Zelda let out another startled scream. The man sighed with a nonchalant roll of his eyes, and then turned immediately back to the traumatized princess. "Now isn't really the time to explain. We really should be going now."

"Where?"

"Trust me, milady, your questions will be answered as soon as possible." All of a sudden, he ran forward, causing Zelda to flinch in surprise. His voice and mannerisms were now hurried and frantic, and he reached out his hand toward her. "But right now, the castle is being invaded, and we need to get you out of here at all costs."

"Why? What do these people want?" Zelda shook her head, refusing to grab this man's hands. She was incapable of putting her full trust into someone who had barged into her room during an invasion. "What do _you_ want?"

"To be concise," he sighed. "They want you."

Zelda opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out of her mouth. Tears brimmed at her eyelids; they were tears of pure, utter fear.

"You have nothing to fear," he lowered his voice to a soothing murmur. "I'll protect you." He wiggled his wrapped fingers, waiting for her to grab them. Zelda lifted her shaky hand hesitantly, still debating on whether or not she should trust this man. There was another rumble. "We don't exactly have much time, Princess." Sheik was getting irritated. "I won't be able to fight off an entire army."

Finally making a rash and seemingly wise decision, Zelda put her hand in his, cringing at the touch. Her heart was beating at such a breakneck pace that she was finding it quite difficult to keep from fainting, let alone maintain her composure. Then again, in her current circumstances, it might've been acceptable to let a tear or two slip. Her mind was becoming a jumble of crazy thoughts rushing around, crying out in protest and support and all emotions. It was impossible at that point to harness any clear idea. So for now, following Sheik was the only choice that Zelda had. If she didn't, she would surely die or be captured; if Sheik turned out to be untrustworthy, the same would happen. She was cornered.

Sheik pulled her to her feet, and for a moment, Zelda thought that her knees were going to give way. She managed to steady herself and still keep a tight grip on the knapsack in her other hand. Almost as soon as she was on her feet, Sheik darted for the door, dragging her behind him. They emerged at the top of the stairwell, and were going to begin their descent when the quick shuffling of footsteps was heard coming up towards them. Sheik stopped in his tracks.

"Well, I guess we can't go that way," he swallowed nervously. Sweat poured down Zelda's face as he ran back into the room, kicking the door closed behind them.

"How are we going to get out if we can't go down the stairs? That's the only exit out of these chambers!" Zelda cried in desperation. Sheik licked his lips and rolled his eyes again.

"Oh yeah, what a great idea that was. This architect sure knew how to protect a princess."

Zelda was about to respond in instinctive reproach when he bounded forward again, forcing her to run behind him. He moved at what seemed to be the speed of light, and she could barely process what was happening when he nimbly moved his feet. Almost instantly, they were standing at the window in the back of the room.

"This leads out onto the roof of another tower, right?" he confirmed.

"Yes..." Zelda nodded, slowly realizing what he was asking.

"All right then!" He took another step forward. "Hold on tight, Princess. This is going to be a bumpy ride."

Then, with a swift and elegant kick of his lean, muscular leg, Sheik kicked straight through the glass of the window, shattering it completely. Without a moment's hesitation, he let go of Zelda's hand and put his arm around her waist, effortlessly pulling her with him to the ledge of the window.

"Put me _down!_ Are you absolutely insane?" she cried, trying as hard as she could to avoid moving onto the ledge with him. "Agh—let go!"

"Princess," he paused for a moment, and looked back at her with a sort of desperation in his features. "Please. Just trust me." There was silence for a moment as she stared at him in bewilderment, inwardly wondering if she should truly trust him.

Before she could make a solid decision, he leaped into the air and onto the roof of the neighboring tower. Succumbing to the fact that she had no choice, Zelda put her arms around his neck and clung onto him for dear life, using every ounce of discipline in her body to keep from screaming at the top of her lungs.

* * *

Link tried as hard as he could to convince himself that Sheik had everything under control, and that he would find a way to keep Damita from capturing the princess. Despite the small voice inside of his head warning him of his negligence of Princess Zelda, he concentrated on his current battle with Nabooru. He could see her fading as he swung, stepped forward, forced her back against the wall. His face was contorted into a figure of rage and passion, for inside was an inferno of emotions. He was thinking about a million things at one time: Princess Zelda's safety, Sheik, Damita, Nabooru, bringing down the Rebel forces...

Link pushed his sword against the shaft of her spear, pressing her more heavily against the wall. Her teeth were clenched, and her yellow eyes were narrowed in anger and struggling. With a sudden scream of fury, Link lifted his sword and grabbed his spear with a free hand, twisting the Gerudo until he had her back against his chest and his arm wrapped fatally around her neck. His sword was kept lifted, ready to kill her at any moment, and her spear was completely out of her reach.

Suddenly, from nowhere, Nabooru laughed hoarsely as her fingers clawed in vain at his wrist.

"You wouldn't dare kill me," she choked. Link squeezed harder in response, causing her to cough.

"Oh really? And why is that, Nabooru?" he whispered in her ear menacingly through clenched teeth. "Why would I even hesitate?"

"Because," she laughed again, though he could see her struggling for air. "You wouldn't hurt Damita like that. You wouldn't kill her best friend."

Link's grip instinctively loosened, and his face fell in resignation. She chuckled in triumph, regardless of the fact that he still had her helpless in his arms. Nabooru was right, and she had been able to read his thoughts before they had even crossed his mind. The truth in her words was painful; he would never kill Nabooru. He would never want to cause Damita that much suffering.

In the midst of his chaotic thoughts, Link had not even realized that he had been slowly tightening his grip on Nabooru's neck. As he snapped back into reality, he saw her lips turning blue, and her eyes rolling back in her head. In an instinctive and desperate move, Link let go of her completely, letting her fall forward onto the floor. She breathed hoarsely and unevenly in her unconscious state, but the color was returning to her dark cheeks and lips. Link clenched his fist as he stared down at the desert beauty in contempt, wishing that he'd had the strength to kill her once and for all.

* * *

Zelda kept her eyes closed as she clung to the man, who—guessing from his movements—was leaping from tower to tower and sprinting along the roofs. He kept his arm around Zelda's waist to keep her at his side, but the princess wouldn't dare open her eyes.

"Please, we have to go back inside! You're going to get us killed!" she screamed after a particularly rough leap.

"We'll be fine," he said casually. Finally, Zelda ventured to open her eyes. They were darting along the ledges of one of the lower towers. "Would you rather go inside and be captured by bloodthirsty Rebels?"

"...No."

"That's what I thought. Don't worry, we'll get back inside eventually," he reassured, glancing back at her. She remained in a very fearful mindset, and each moment they were scurrying about on the roof of the castle beneath the stars, she felt more inclined to rush back inside, to her library where she could curl up on a chair and read a good book. After what seemed like an eternity, Sheik finally stopped.

"Why are we stopping? Are we going back inside?"

"Jeez, go easy on the questions! You're in a life-threatening situation and all you can do is ask me questions!" he sighed in exasperation. Zelda furrowed her brow, slightly offended as he set her down.

"I only wanted to—"

"Be patient, Princess, and all of your questions will be answered. I promise," Sheik nodded, still a bit frustrated. "Just follow my lead."

Judging from the tone of his voice, the glint in his eyes, and the earnestness in his movements, Zelda took a leap of faith and decided to put all of her trust into this man. She was not the kind of girl to do this, especially as the princess of an entire kingdom, but the situation called for her to make risks. Right now, the only choice she had was to rely fully on Sheik. The thought frightened her, but she attempted to look past that fear and throw away her apprehensions...at least for a little bit.

"Ah, here we go," Sheik mumbled to himself just as they landed on the narrow ledge of another window. He nimbly balanced himself with one hand on the latch of the window, but while Zelda clung to him, she found herself dangling over the edge.

_Please hurry up!_ She thought desperately. Then, still balanced using only one strong hand, he kicked the window open and hastily swung into the corridor of the castle. Zelda closed her eyes, waiting until the moment when she felt her feet hit solid ground. Then, everything was still for a few moments, until she reluctantly lifted her eyelids. With a sigh of relief, she saw that they were only on the second floor of the castle, in one of the main hallways. At the other end of the corridor was a turn, and around the corner, the stairwell leading down to the main hall.

"Come, we must be swift." Sheik lifted his arm from her waist and grabbed her hand, once again darting down the hallway and dragging her behind him. Zelda, after letting out a small shriek of surprise, followed unorthodoxly. She had to refrain from asking him where they were going, simply to make things a bit easier, even though she was having a bit of trouble keeping up with him. He was flying down the hall, crouched so low that his chest was nearly touching the floor. Zelda felt as if she were going to trip and fall flat on her face at any second.

When they turned the corner, Zelda didn't have enough time to see Sheik jump over a large object on the floor, and she clumsily tripped over it.

"Princess, are you okay?" Sheik stopped in his tracks, turned back around, and knelt beside her.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," she replied shakily, using his arms to help herself stand up. Curious and quite irritated with the disturbance, she turned around to face what had tripped her. The only lights in the hall were the candlelit sconces on the wall, and they were just barely enough for her to make out the blurry shape on the ground.

"What...?" She furrowed her brow, still unable to make out what exactly it was. Her breathing was becoming unsteady when she looked down at her hands, and found them stained red with dark, sticky blood. "Oh, my goddesses..."

At this point, she was hyperventilating, and she knelt beside the figure hastily.

"Princess, we really should continue moving..." Sheik persisted, stepping up behind her. As she got closer, she realized that the figure was actually a person, lying facedown...in their own pool of blood.

"No, no, no, no," Zelda repeated in a hushed tone as she turned over the body to look at the face. When she saw it, everything became blurry, and for a moment, she was not even thinking about the situation in which she was. The horrible sight before her took over her emotions, and her own feelings of rage and absolute terror seemed to control her every move. "No!"

"Princess, please!"

"Teacher!" She could not even control the fact that she was screaming at the top of her lungs, for now she found herself staring into the lackluster, glassy, hollow eyes of her friend, teacher, and mentor. "No, this can't be..." Just as the guards had been in front of her chambers, his throat was slit.

"Zelda, we have to go!" Sheik touched her shoulder, in a mixture of persistence and sympathy.

"No! I'm not leaving him! Teacher!" Zelda could not help the tears that streamed down her face in flurries, and she choked out hoarse, uneven sobs. The grief she was feeling was almost unlike anything she'd ever experienced, and she would not leave his side. As she cried out his name, she bent over his body, disregarding the blood that tainted her porcelain skin.

"Zelda...there's nothing you could have done." Sheik knelt beside her, and began rubbing her back soothingly. The touch sent a shock through her, but it failed to truly clear her thoughts. Instead, she wept harder, and her body shook violently with each cry of misery.

"Teacher, Teacher..."

"I'm sorry, but we must leave him," Sheik said. Before Zelda could respond, he grabbed her arms, and with a strength that she could never resist, forced her to her feet.

"_No!_ Let go of me!" she screamed, struggling to break free of his grasp and fall back down beside her dead tutor. "I can't leave him!" She was unaware of even her own words, for the only thing she could see was the blind rage and grief that danced inside of her mind. Each time she blinked, she saw Teacher's face in the darkness, and the blood on her hands. "_Teacher!_"

Sheik continued his attempts to pull her back down the stairwell; Zelda continued her struggling and savage screaming. But finally, it all became too much. The entire situation collapsed upon her shoulders, and the fact that Teacher was gone fully hit her...especially the fact that he most likely died protecting her. Zelda, reluctantly and with a manner of resignation, stopped struggling and fell back against Sheik's chest, sobbing uncontrollably. He embraced her calmly, letting her tears flow and shushing her soothingly. She cried deeply and unevenly into the ever-watching eye on his chest.

"Shh, it'll be okay," he murmured. Zelda found those words impossible to believe; the proof was the bloody pool that lay at her feet.

* * *

Link, still distracted with thoughts of Damita and Sheik, left Nabooru lying there and moved on to bring down more Rebels. They seemed to be endless as they rushed at him and his troops, and Link easily brought down each and every Rebel that came his way. They barely lasted two minutes against him and his incomparable sword skills. Around him, his troops were having similar successes. However, each time Link caught a glimpse of a fallen or wounded Loyalist, his heart wrenched, and all at once, guilt and pride pulsed through his veins. Guilt, because they were under his command. Pride, because they had died loyally guarding what needed to be protected for the good of their kingdom.

"Link!" A voice calling his name drew Link out of his trance of fury, and after befalling one more Rebel advancing on him, he looked around anxiously for the source of the voice. There, running down toward the fury from the other end of the hall, was Sheik; behind him was the one and only Princess Zelda. Even from a distance, he could see her trembling horridly, clinging to Sheik's hand tightly.

"Sheik!" Hastily scurrying towards them, he smiled broadly and greeted Sheik with a welcoming and relieved embrace. "I thought you were..."

"I'm fine, Link, I'm fine," Sheik chuckled, pulling away and putting his hands on Link's shoulders. "Princess Zelda is, as well."

Link did not even look at her; there was no time.

"Get her out of the castle and into the camp! We'll be there shortly! Make sure she gets out of here safely!" he ordered. "Hurry!"

With an obedient nod, Sheik darted down the hall, keeping the princess close behind him. Link watched them closely, and to his delight, in only a few minutes, Sheik and Princess Zelda were safely out of harm's way. Almost at that very instant, Link noticed something strange; Damita was nowhere to be seen. What had Sheik done...?

"Retreat! Rebels, I repeat: retreat at once!" Nabooru had regained consciousness, and was now bellowing orders as if nothing had even happened to her. At her command, all of the remaining Rebels (and they were few) rushed back down the hall, toward the nearest exit. Link saw his troops begin to run after them, but he lifted his arms to stop them.

"No! Stop," he began. "Let them run. We have been victorious; Princess Zelda is safe and in our hands. We must now return to the Loyalist camp, at once! Hurry!"

After jumping momentarily for joy and clapping each other on the back, Link's troops filed excitedly out of the front entrance of the castle. As soon as they were all gone, Link moved forward, as well, but before leaving, he turned around one more time. Nabooru was standing at the end of the hall, glaring at him.

"You may have won this time, Link," she spat. "But mark my words...we will get that princess."

Then, instead of following the other Rebels, she ran up the stairs. Link knew why; she was going to search for Damita. He almost felt inclined to follow her, and his legs tingled with the desire to find the fallen general. But he could not leave his troops. With a sense of worry still dominant in his mind, Link ran out of the castle.

_I need to stop thinking about Damita,_ he reprimanded. _Right now, the princess is all that matters...that's all...just the princess..._

Link wasn't even able to convince himself of that.

* * *

**Confusing? Not confusing? Good chapter? Bad chapter? Hmm. Let me know in your reviews! Thanks again to everybody who is reading! I love you all :3**


	13. Shadows

**Chapter twelve! Thank you to everybody for reading! Also, to muzy95, your question brought up a very important matter. I hope this chapter clears some things up, because I wrote it with your constructive criticism in mind! So thank you very much muzy95! **

**Anywhooooo, enjoy this chapter! It's long, but hopefully, it's entertaining/meaningful. ;) **

* * *

Chapter Twelve: Shadows

Damita knelt with her head bowed obediently, letting her limp and stained silver curls fall over her face. Her two bloody swords were laid out in front of her, but she kept her fists clenched in her lap as she sat, completely motionless. The entire tent was dark except for two faltering candles on either side of her, creating a small patch of light that shined only on her shameful body. She wouldn't dare lift her face and show the disgrace that was written in her features and glowed inside her teary eyes. The silence was eerie, and Damita's apprehensions were augmenting with each deafening moment that passed.

"General...Damita." The low, menacingly gruff voice broke the silence, and she instinctively flinched at the sound. Behind her closed lips, she bit her tongue, praying to the goddesses to keep her silent for only a few minutes longer. "This is, to say the least, disappointing."

The girl did not reply. She simply knelt as still as a statue, keeping her head low respectfully. Even if she had lifted her eyes, the source of the voice was hidden in the darkness, as if the shadows themselves were speaking down to her. Her prayers to the goddesses never ceased.

"Do you remember what you said to me before you left?" he asked calmly. It was the calmness that frightened Damita most of all. She heard a soft footstep, and realized that he had taken a step forward. She still could not reply, both out of fear and humiliation. Though she opened her mouth, nothing came out.

"Answer me!" His voice suddenly rose to a horrible, furious screaming, and he took one more step. "Do you remember, or don't you?" He bent down towards her, and finally, the light shined upon his face.

"I-I promised that I w-wouldn't f-fail you," she replied, in a voice so small it was barely audible. She could not bring herself to look up into his eyes. Finally, in a fury, he put his meaty hand below her chin and forced her face upwards. She took in a sharp breath when she found herself looking into two angry, dangerously narrowed yellow eyes. The dark features of his face were wrinkled in anger, and the red coils on his head made it seem almost as if he were on fire with anger. It took all of Damita's courage to keep from shrinking away at his touch, and at the horrible sight she was facing.

"You promised you wouldn't fail me," he echoed, quietly once more. "And what did you do at the castle, Damita?"

Though she did not break eye contact, she could not answer his question.

"What did you _do_?" he screamed in her face, causing her to cringe.

"I failed you!" she practically screamed, merely in response to his barbaric advances. Tears which she could not hold back now streamed down her face, betraying any sense of dignity she had managed to harbor before this point.

"Yes, Damita. You failed me." He sighed, taking his hand from under her chin and letting her face fall. The tears dangling on her chin finally fell, landing fatefully on the blades of her bloody swords. She closed her eyes, unable to bear the sight of her disgraceful reflection in their shining mirrors.

"Now, answer me this," he continued with no mercy. Damita did not know how much more she could handle. "Why did you fail?"

"B-because..." she paused, swallowing nervously but keeping her eyes closed. "Because I was weak."

"Yes, you were weak. What made you so weak?"

"I..." She took an abnormally long pause, letting silence fill the air once more. It was sliced crisply with his screaming.

"_Answer me!_"

"I don't know."

"Hmm... You don't know," he repeated, calm again. She heard him begin to pace in front of her, as if he were pondering some philosophical theory. "Well, that only makes things worse, doesn't it, my dear?" The tone of voice made the pace of her heartbeat quicken dangerously.

"Let's see if you can answer one more question," he began. His footsteps stopped, and Damita ventured to open her eyes. She did not, however, look up. "Who led the Loyalist troops? Can you at least tell me that much?" He bent down again, so that she could feel his foul breath on the top of her bowed head. "Who was it?"

Damita was tempted not to answer, so for a few moments, she was silent. She couldn't help but tremble just slightly, standing in Master's shadow. But she could not imagine anything worse than Master laying his cruel, greasy hands upon her beautiful Link...

"Come now," he cooed. "You must know. You were, after all, the Rebel General, were you not?" Here, he gave a cruel chuckle. "Who was it?"

"Link." Damita's voice was so quiet that he could not hear her.

"You look at me when you speak to me!" he bellowed. Before Damita could react, he lifted his hand and slapped her savagely, throwing her to the ground. Damita, determined to remain defiant, used all of her determination to hold in the scream that came to her lips when the pain erupted against her cheek. It tingled uncomfortably as she lifted a hand to touch the red spot, and the tears only flowed harder. She forced herself to look up at him. In pure anger and, frankly, fear, she found herself screaming as well.

"It was Link!" she cried, choking back sobs. "It was Link..."

"I see." Master stood straight, melting back into the shadows. Damita's face still burned. "Link."

"Yes," she replied, though somewhat hesitantly. It seemed as if the mention of Link's name actually strengthened her, and persuaded her to become more demanding in the conversation. The stutter evaporated.

"Link. Is he not, purportedly, the best swordsman in Hyrule?"

"The very same." Damita shifted back to her position of kneeling, but did not bow her head. She was now openly showing her respect for him, though she had also regained her sense of discipline, and kept herself from moving a hand to the throbbing spot on her cheek where Master had laid his hand upon her.

"And, if I'm not mistaken," he began pacing once more. "Is he also the one with which you were once in love?"

When Damita caught her breath, and when all of the color drained from her face, Master laughed maniacally.

"Perhaps those feelings remain," he speculated. Damita's stomach churned, and she had to bite her tongue once more. When she closed her eyes, Link's face was there to prove Master's theory correct. "Now I know why you were weak. I suppose there's only one way to deal with this."

Those words made Damita's heart stop, and she squeezed her fists tighter. Fear caused the sweat to accumulate on her forehead, even though the tears had stopped flowing. It was not fear for her own life. There was silence, and then, ominously, Master walked right past her to the entrance of the tent. He put his head out of the flap of the tent, and then called somebody's name. It was a name that Damita recognized as a high-ranking Rebel soldier. Robotically, as Master moved back to stand in front of Damita, the Hylian man walked in standing as straight as a pole.

"If you would so kindly take General Damita to the post," he began, "I would like for you to give her ten lashings. Then, a day of fasting. It is only dawn, after all."

Damita gasped, shrinking back at the orders. Master uttered them without even a single flinch. Feelings of fear, horror, and reluctance mixed inside of her to create one large burst of furious emotion.

"Master, you can't!" she screamed defensively. "It's the middle of summer, and we've only just completed the invasion!"

"Then perhaps this will make you even stronger," he growled. "Ten lashings, no less. Then take her out to the center of the desert, and do not return for her until dusk has fallen."

"Yes, sir." The man stepped forward and grabbed Damita's arms, forcing her to rise from her humiliating position. She glared at Master with contempt as she was dragged out of the tent. Before she was completely gone, however, he stepped forward and whispered something in her ear.

"I will not have my best generals succumbing to their personal emotions. You will be punished for your weaknesses. Pray that they don't happen again. I really hate to see my best soldiers pushed this low...perhaps you can be an example to the other Rebels."

Damita had to use all of her strength to resist spitting in his face.

* * *

Link stood with his arms crossed outside of the tent and a blank expression on his face. In the distance, the sun was rising, ominously casting its bloody crimson rays across the quiet Loyalist camp. The other Loyalists, the ones who had not been involved with the invasion, were still unaware of any of the events that had occurred; they still had no idea that the princess of Hyrule was among them. In fact, she was only a small distance away, inside the tent outside of which Link stood like a statue. He refrained from peeking in through the flap; he did not want to frighten her or intrude.

As if on cue, Sheik walked slowly out of the tent, and then finally, lowered the cloth that had been covering his nose and mouth. His thick blond strands of hair were matted to his forehead from the sweat and moisture of the night, and the smooth skin of his face was now covered with small bloody scratches. His suit was tattered in various places, but besides that, he looked as good as ever. Link could only imaging that he looked the same. Sheik took a step toward him, and then, he gave Link his signature grin.

"We did okay," he patted his back affectionately with a chuckle. Link smiled, nodding his head in agreement. "The princess is safe. Of course, I can't really say she's doing _well_, but..." Sheik shrugged in resignation, staring gloomily at the closed flap of the tent.

"Why? What's wrong?" Worry was suddenly uprooted inside of Link at those words.

"Don't worry about it," Sheik reassured with a sigh. "Physically, she's fine."

Cautiously, Link moved forward and peeked into the tent, where it was all dark except for one glittering candle at the bedside. He could vaguely see the silhouette of the princess's body, but her back was to him as she slept. He saw her tremble just slightly in her slumber, and with a worried sigh, he withdrew from the tent.

"I stayed inside with her until she finally went to bed," Sheik said. Then, he chuckled dryly, as if to emphasize that there was no humor in the situation. "The poor girl cried herself to sleep."

"Did she say anything to you?" Link furrowed his brows. Sheik shook his head, and then wiped the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand.

"No. But I would leave her alone if I were you," he elbowed him gently. "Right now, she's too traumatized. I mean, she just saw her entire life collapse right before her eyes."

"I know the feeling..." Link murmured, so quietly that Sheik couldn't hear him.

"When we were running back to the main hall, we saw a dead guy," Sheik whispered, as if he were scared that Zelda would hear him, even in her sleep.

"That's valuable information."

With a roll of his eyes, Sheik began walking back to his own tent, and Link followed at his side.

"Apparently, this guy was really important to her. I could've sworn she was about to faint in terror, the poor princess. As if her situation wasn't bad enough." Sheik shook his head in sympathy. "And I know Damita did it. His throat was slit."

"Damita..." Link repeated the name, and it tasted sweet on his tongue. "What happened with her?"

"Long story short," Sheik sighed. "She was just about to capture Princess Zelda when I showed up. A few kicks here, a couple swings there, and _boom!_ She was out."

"You defeated her that easily?"

"Well, you could say that I...hmm... 'distracted' her, I suppose," Sheik shrugged with a mischievous wink. "It's very easy to distract people who are in love."

Link narrowed his eyes and looked away, trying to conceal the mixed emotions churning inside of him. It was a complete jumble of relief, anger, happiness, and fear. However, he could not stop the red from rising to his cheeks; he was grateful for the dim atmosphere of the early dawn that hid his flustered features.

"...Did she...say that?"

"Of course not. She's not an idiot," Sheik laughed. Then, atoning for his foolish words, he continued. "But I could see it in her eyes."

"What did you do with her?"

"Uh, well..." Sheik smiled with a nervous chuckle, and then guiltily rubbed the back of his neck. "Nothing, actually."

"Are you telling me that you just _left_ her there?" Link halted abruptly, and his fists clenched instinctively.

"What was I supposed to do, huh? What would _you_ have done?" Sheik cried. Then, he laughed again. "Maybe you're the wrong person to be asking..."

"You let her get away?"

"I didn't want to kill her!" he defended. At this, Link shrunk back as if he'd been slapped. Simply the thought made him cringe in terror. "I couldn't do that to you. And I had to get the princess out of there! Did you want me to go back up there and deal with Damita with the castle still under invasion? Huh? What would you suggest?"

"I suppose you're right," Link sighed submissively. "Sorry."

"Eh, don't mention it, bud," Sheik shrugged off the small quarrel. "Besides, I couldn't kill Damita anyway. We were friends too, you know."

They continued walking, but Link's mind was somewhere else. His thoughts were filled with worries about the princess, who was undoubtedly scarred and in shock. He could somehow relate to how she was feeling; he remembered with grief that day three years ago when the Rebels had first captured Damita. Gradually, a smile appeared on his lips when he recalled the very first time he had even laid eyes on Damita...

* * *

...Fifteen-year old Link walked, bored out of his mind, along the mundane pathways of the camp. He swung his sword idly in front of him, chewing habitually on the small blade of grass grinding between his teeth. The older and 'more mature' Loyalists were holding an important meeting; one to which, evidently, Link was not allowed to go. He let out a heavy sigh of exasperation as he just kept walking, wishing that there were something more he could do for this group rather than take up tent space. All he did, every day, was train. At this point, he was able to hold his own against even the most skilled warriors of the camp. Still, the Loyalist leader refused to accommodate him.

"You may be strong and skilled, Link," Rusl had told him apologetically. "But you're not mature enough yet. Wait a couple more years."

Link, unfortunately, had no choice but to obey. So, along with the children of the camp, he was excluded from the meetings.

_I'm not a kid anymore!_ He thought in annoyance, kicking a rock in his path. _I'm almost sixteen! I should be allowed to participate more. I'm plenty mature!_

He was unaware of his own contradicting thoughts.

_I hate this. _

The swinging of his sword became more and more forceful as his temper rose, and his mood was becoming increasingly rebellious. He was angry with Rusl and the other Loyalists. They underestimated his abilities to help them with more than just his sword. He had so many ideas, and so many innovations about how to make Hyrule a better place. If only they would listen to him, perhaps something would actually be done. Link hadn't realized to where exactly his feet were taking him, and before he knew it, he found himself standing on the edges of the forest that created a protective boundary of the camp.

"Link," Rusl had constantly warned him, ever since he was a child. "You must never enter the forest. At least, not until I say you're ready to leave the camp. Do you understand?"

His caring words echoed in Link's head, but his anger distorted them into words of disrespect and taunting. With clenched teeth and a fuming temper, Link chose to ignore the warnings of the Loyalist leader. He walked into the forest without a single flinch.

With the sun setting, everything was shady and covered with shadows, but Link took no heed to the darkness as he stomped his way through the winding paths of the trees. Satisfied with his breaking of this steadfast rule, he smiled to himself in contentment, and continued swinging his sword. He cut easily through the branches and leaves that blocked his path, and suddenly, his imagination took flight. He was no longer in the forest. He was on the battlefield, facing dozens of Rebels that rushed toward him with their weapons at the ready. Link, becoming lost in the intricate fantasies of his mind, began using his sword even more forcefully. He sprinted between the trees, slashing every imaginary enemy that came his way. He leaped, and twirled, and with skill that even at fifteen could not be matched, easily cut his way through the forest. He threw his head back and laughed, ignoring the tangles that pulled at his hair and the branches that cut his arms and legs.

Link, after what seemed like ages, finally stopped to catch his breath. For a few moments, the Rebels evaporated, and he was back in the forest. He put his hands on his knees and stared at the ground as he panted, but there was a broad smile on his face. The adrenaline that pulsed through his veins was a feeling he could never get enough of, no matter how old he got. From that moment, he made a vow to himself, remembering Rusl's words and the jeering of the other Loyalists.

"They'll all see one day." He straightened up, and furrowed his brow in determination. "I'll be the leader of the Loyalists. I'll finally make a difference in Hyrule, and then they'll wish they listened to me _now_. They'll all be jealous of Link, the best swordsman in Hyrule and leader of the Loyalists."

In the middle of his small soliloquy, he heard something rush behind him. Responding to the sudden and frightening churn of his stomach, he put both hands on the hilt of his sword and whirled around. There was nothing there except for the long stretch of trees, but he didn't put his guard down. His instincts could simply sense something unusual. For a few moments, he found himself regretting his entry into the forest. He didn't know what he would find out here; perhaps even he would be unable to defeat whatever may come his way. Perhaps Rusl had been right about the dangers that awaited him in forest. Maybe he really wasn't ready.

Only when Link tried to go back to the camp did he realize how hopelessly lost he was.

_Now Rusl will never let me do anything!_ In pure anger and frustration, Link growled and swung his sword into the trunk of the nearest tree, creating a deep gash into the thick wood. It was almost dark, and the meeting back at camp was sure to be over now. Soon, people would be noticing his absence.

_They won't care,_ Link tried to convince himself. _Nobody will care._ Overwhelmed and completely lost, Link just wandered aimlessly among the trees, praying to the goddesses that he would soon emerge into the camp. Of course, regardless of his prayers, he did not. He wandered for what seemed like an eternity, and not even the haven of his imagination could comfort him.

Suddenly, the faint and distant sound of panting reached his ears. He stopped in his tracks, narrowing his eyes as his ears twitched in response to the distant noise. Still quiet and apprehensive, he began walking in the direction from which the sound seemed to be coming. It was a strange sound to which Link was unaccustomed; it sounded as though somebody was breathing abnormally heavily, but he couldn't be sure. Then, as the sound slowly became louder and louder, Link's keen eyes made out the vague, unusual silhouette of somebody lying on the ground in the darkness. Finally aware that there was somebody else in the forest, Link jumped hastily behind the nearest tree, peering from behind it. Just as he had been expecting, somebody was there in a patch of leaves, breathing in a heavy and unsteady fashion.

Link could not ignore his curiosity. Trying to be as stealthy as possible, he moved from tree to tree, attempting to get a clearer view of the mysterious figure. He moved silently among the leaves, making sure to stay quiet so that he wouldn't act in a way he would end up regretting. Still, though the leaves and sticks beneath his boots snapped and crinkled inevitably, the figure on the ground did not move. Realizing that his situation was safe, he stepped out from behind the tree and moved slowly toward the blurry figure. Closer and closer, until he saw that it was a person lying there...no, a girl.

_What in Farore's name...?_ He thought, furrowing his brow in concern as he drew nearer. The sky was nearly black, and the canopies of the trees further buried him in darkness. The thin slivers of moonlight that slipped through the leaves was just enough for Link to make out a girl, facedown in the dirt, unconscious. Her face was concealed by a curtain of curled, dirty silver hair, and in her outstretched hand, she still clenched a small dagger. The tiny blade was covered in blood.

_Who is this girl?_ He was intrigued by this discovery, and moved even closer. Kneeling beside her, he was able to see her better. After putting his sword on the ground, he gently brushed away the thick locks of hair that covered her face.

At the unexpected sight, he felt as if all of the breath had been knocked from his lungs. In her deep slumber, the girl appeared like a serene, beautiful, inhuman angel. Though he couldn't see her eyes, he could only imagine how they would look. A small, discreet smile spread across his features, and without realizing what he was doing, he stroked her cheek softly. The skin of her tearstained face was covered in dirt and blood, and through the bandages wrapped around her hands he could see red seeping through. Evidently, this girl had been through a lot before collapsing in the middle of the forest. Link was instantly entranced.

"What happened to you...?" he whispered, more to himself than to anybody else. Suddenly, as if she had heard him, the girl's eyes snapped open. Surprised and slightly frightened, Link stumbled back, but kept his gaze firmly on her. Her eyes were even more beautiful than he imagined: the brightest, most vivid shade of green.

"You're one of them..." she hissed through clenched teeth, using her arms to steady herself as she attempted to sit up. She pointed her dagger accusingly at his face, and her eyes were narrowed as she glared at him. The voice that uttered the words, however, was hoarse and worn out. Link was so surprised that he couldn't reply.

"You killed my parents," she continued. "And now you want to kill me." As she said those words, a tear slipped from her eye, and her arms trembled.

"No, no," Link reassured, finally regaining his sense. He leaned forward, crossing his legs and putting up his hands comfortingly. "I'm here to help you."

"Liar!"

"I promise..." Link's brave and kind nature took over, and he gave her a soothing and reassuring smile. "I'm not going to hurt you. I can help you."

The girl simply stared at him, evidently skeptical of his true intentions. The softness of his voice did seem to calm her down significantly, though. She shook suddenly in what seemed to be a mixture of weakness, grief, exhaustion, and fear. He scooted forward and, hesitantly, put his hands gently on her shaky shoulders.

"My name is Link."

Then, as if she were finally satisfied, she collapsed once more into his arms. He stared down at her with a glint in his eye. His anger with Rusl and the other Loyalists had suddenly disappeared with his finding of this girl, and he could not get her piercing gaze out of his head. It felt strangely perfect, sitting there in the shadows of the trees with this mysterious girl in his arms...

* * *

...Link blinked out of his trance and was once again twenty-one years old, staring up at the ceiling of his tent in exhaustion. But, just as had been the case when he was fifteen, he could not get Damita's piercing gaze out of his head.

* * *

**What are all of your opinions so far? I would really like to hear them in some reviews! As I did in this chapter, I will ALWAYS take into consideration what you guys say. Every opinion matters, and I look at each and every review! Don't be afraid to really tell me what you think! Thanks again guys, I'll update as soon as possible! ^_^**


	14. First Impressions

**Chapter thirteen =3 Personally, I think this chapter is super choppy. It doesn't flow as well as I imagined it would in my head. _ Eh well, hopefully it's not like that for you guys! Enjoy! **

* * *

Chapter Thirteen: First Impressions

Zelda sat in bed, staring ahead with a blank expression on her face. Dried tears still stained her cheeks and pillow, but it seemed almost as if she had cried out every single last tear. She was left feeling dry, empty, and horribly confused. Her circumstances were still hazy in her mind, for she had no idea where she was or how she'd arrived there. All that she did know was that she was inside of a tent, and on the other side of the tent was a man. He was sitting on a chair, but was slumped backwards and had his arms folded in a state of slumber. His mouth was wide open and his nostrils flared as he snored, fast asleep. As Zelda scrutinized him curiously, vague memories of the night before began clearing up in her head. Her stomach began churning uncomfortably, and her fingers wrapped tightly around her blankets in frustration and terror. She examined the man's face once more, and then suddenly recognized him by the blonde hair peeking from under cloth wrapped around his head. He was the man who had saved her the night before; she had difficulty recognizing him because his mouth and nose were now uncovered.

_Sheik was his name..._ she recalled hazily. As soon as she remembered his name, all of the pieces fell into place, and she was overwhelmed with a sense of helplessness. From nowhere, more tears appeared, and she found it impossible to hold them back.

_My castle was invaded._ She choked back sobs and leaned back against the headboard of the bed. The tears flowed even harder when she remembered Teacher, mercilessly slaughtered inside the walls of her own home.

Suddenly, the man sat up abruptly and opened his eyes. With a disoriented snort, he looked around the room, and finally, his eyes fell upon the princess, who was staring at him with a hopeless expression.

"Good morning, Princess..." he said hesitantly. Zelda swallowed, trying to compose herself in front of him. She didn't answer. "Did you sleep well?"

"...No."

"As expected." The man stood up and walked to the edge of her bed with a welcoming smile on his face. "Actually, I would be shocked if you _had_ slept well."

He sat down at the foot of her bed, keeping a jubilant expression on his face. Slowly, though, it faded away. Because Zelda's expression was the furthest thing from jubilant. She felt fragile and delicate, ready to collapse at any second.

"Do you remember what happened, Princess?" he finally asked. She broke eye contact, looking down anxiously. Of course she remembered. She just didn't want to emphasize the memories in her mind. All she could do was nod subtly.

"I'm sure you're confused," he chuckled quietly, scratching the back of his neck. She looked back at him with a more vivacious nod. "Well, first and foremost, welcome to the Loyalist camp! And in case you forgot, I'm Sheik."

"No, I remember," she replied bluntly. He sighed heavily. "You're the one who saved me."

"Eh," he shrugged modestly. "It was a group effort."

Zelda could tell that he was trying his hardest to stay in a cheery mood, if only for the sole purpose of comforting her. However, there was nothing at that point that could comfort Zelda. Her castle had been invaded, her own people were turning against her, and she had just awoken in a place that she had no idea even existed. The routines and comforts of her life had been ripped away in one single night, and it was overwhelming. Finally, though, she built up the strength to open her mouth once more.

"Who was that woman who attacked me?" It was the first question that came to her mind. "Who invaded my castle?"

"Um, perhaps for a while you should just—"

"Please," she said shakily. She knew he was only trying to keep her comforted, but right now, she needed answers. "I just want to know who did this to me."

"The Rebels, Princess."

"...The Rebels?"

"Come," Sheik said as he stood up. His expression was softer now, and he outstretched his hand for her. "I'll give you a tour around the camp. I'll explain on the way. Getting some fresh air might do you well."

Zelda was hesitant to get out of bed. Her mood was at an all-time low, and she wasn't sure how long she would be able to hold back before melting down again. It was only a matter of time. She also didn't know how she would react to this new world in which she found herself thrown. No... She didn't want to get any fresh air.

"Please, Princess," Sheik persisted with a sigh. "Sitting here and thinking about what happened is only going to make you feel worse."

"Well..." Zelda was surprised at how easily she was persuaded. Unable to resist and suddenly curious, Zelda grabbed his hand and silently let him aid her in standing up. Though she was feeling physically stable, her knees still buckled when she stood up, as if the mental burden of such horrible events was too heavy for her to support. She was still in her nightgown, though it was tattered and dirty, and her blonde hair was matted and curled messily around her face. Of course, at that moment, she paid no heed to her appearance.

"Wait—where's my knapsack? Is it safe?" She suddenly grabbed his arm tightly and searched the room anxiously.

"Don't worry, it's right over there," he reassured, gesturing to another corner of the room. Sure enough, her knapsack sat, unharmed. With a final sigh of relief, Zelda let Sheik lead her out of the room and into the sunlight.

"The Rebels are a secret organization, founded as opposition to the Royal Family of Hyrule." As Sheik began explaining, Zelda absorbed the view of her surroundings. Though she was still a bit dazed, she was able to come to terms with the fact that she was in a small, quaint village, dotted with tents similar to the one out of which she'd just emerged. The grass was the brightest green color, accompanied by lush trees and colorful flowers. In the distance, she could vaguely hear the currents of a stream. Sheik, still holding her hand, began leading her through the pathways and around the various tents. The atmosphere calmed her down significantly and helped her to begin thinking clearly.

"We don't know how long they've been around, but it's been at least twenty years. Who knows? Maybe the Rebels stretch all the way back to the Hero of Twilight," he continued explaining with a shrug. Zelda's attention was divided between his important explanation and the Loyalist village that surrounded her. "Anyway, their main purpose is to oppose the Royal Family. I'm sure they've tried for decades to bring down the monarchy..."

"But they've only succeeded now," she finished despondently as everything began making sense in her mind.

"Well, that's where we come in. There have been Rebellion attempts in the past, but we always manage to get in their way," he winked. "We're the Loyalists. And this is our camp."

"As in, loyal to the Royal Family?"

"Exactly! I may not know much about the Rebels' founding, but the Hero of Twilight himself founded the Loyalists after the defeat of the Evil King. Legend has it that he wanted to keep anything like that from ever happening again, so he organized a secret group of men and women from around Hyrule. Luckily, the group has lasted this long, and we've managed to stay secret pretty well."

"So, maybe for centuries, there has been a secret civil war going on between the Loyalists and the Rebels?" Zelda was now in a state of shock. She could barely comprehend what Sheik was telling her. Frankly, she was quite angry with the fact that she had no knowledge of two secret, important organizations fighting right under her nose.

"I wouldn't go as far as calling it a war. More of a friendly rivalry."

"It seems to be more than that. I mean, the fate of the Royal Family depends on the winner of this 'rivalry,' right?"

"I guess you could say that. In this generation, we've never had to deal with a full-fledged Rebel uprising, so we haven't really come in contact with the Rebels too much. Well, except for three years ago when they invaded our camp. But that's a whole different story, for a different day." They continued walking.

Zelda passed different people flowing in and out of tents, some who didn't realize her presence and some who gaped at her shamelessly. There were both humans and Hylians, but they all looked like warriors. Beside her, Sheik flashed them smiles and friendly waves, greeting them openly. Simply being around him and his friendly nature lifted her mood, though at that moment, there was truly nothing that could comfort her.

"Don't worry, they'll get used to you eventually," he teased. Zelda, however, was not amused, and turned on him with an unexpectedly angry expression.

"_Eventually?_ How long do you think I'm going to be here?" she cried. Sheik furrowed his brow in surprise at her sudden outburst. "I have a kingdom to lead, a government to return to!"

"Princess, I don't you think you understand," he stuttered. "You can't go back to the castle any time soon. It's not safe there."

"What are you talking about? I'm the Princess of Hyrule! I have a duty to my people!"

"Well, your duty does _not_ include being killed by Rebels. And that's exactly what will happen if you go back to the castle." Sheik's eyes were now hard and determined, staring into hers with a cold glisten. "There's no way you can return to Hyrule Castle."

"What about Hyrule? Without a government, it will fall to pieces!"

"Don't worry! The Royal Council is still in power, is it not?" Sheik raised his eyebrows, catching Zelda off-guard with his question.

"Well, yes, I suppose it is. But if you can't keep the Rebels from killing _me_, how are you going to keep them from killing the other council members?" she retorted.

"After the invasion last night, we decided to keep some troops at the castle as protection. Now, with the Royal Guard and the Loyalist troops, there's no way the Rebels can hurt the other council members. Our leader is clever enough to keep them protected. However, protecting you is a completely different matter. You need to trust us." His gaze softened, and as Zelda began to tremble slightly, he put his hands on her shoulders. Everything was collapsing around her, and she wasn't sure if she would be able to withstand the pressure. "Everything will be fine."

Finally succumbing, she nodded solemnly and followed him down the path once more. After a few more minutes of weaving their way around the tents and through the paths, Zelda found herself walking into a large field, filled with swordsmen and archers. It seemed as if everywhere she turned, swords were being swung or arrows were being launched, and dummies were the receiving ends of these actions.

"This is our training ground. It's where we...well...train!" Sheik said. "In case you haven't noticed, we Loyalists are pretty capable warriors. The magic happens right here!" The men and women took no notice of her, for they were completely engrossed in their training. Zelda, still angry, confused, and miserable, could only stare at them with wonder.

Suddenly, as they walked through the field, Zelda's eyes fell upon something extraordinary. She had, without warning, made eye contact with one of the men who were training, and he stared back at her undividedly. His eyes were the most mesmerizing shade of blue, and they glistened as she stared into them, undistracted. Sweat rolled down his tanned face, and thick strands of dirty blond hair fell across his forehead. In his left hand he held a blue-hilted sword, and the dummy he was facing was torn and nearly falling off of its pole. He was intriguing, and Zelda simply could not take her eyes away from his.

"Sheik," she paused, tugging at his arm. "Who's that boy over there?" She gestured subtly as the boy returned to his training, swinging gracefully yet mercilessly at the dummy.

"Oh..." Sheik chuckled, and he looked down at Zelda with a mischievous expression. "That's Link. Yeah, he's quite the charmer with the ladies, though I'm not really sure why."

"Link...I've heard that name somewhere before..." Her cheeks were the brightest shade of red as she watched the muscles of his bare torso flex with each swing of his sword.

"Yup. He was named after the Hero of Twilight," Sheik replied with a sense of pride in his voice. "He's also the leader of the Loyalist camp."

"The leader?" Zelda tilted her head. Something about him set her on edge, as if she had met him before somewhere. For a few moments, she completely forgot about the horrible predicament in which she was trapped. "So, he's the mastermind behind all of this?"

"Yeah. He led the mission that saved your life," Sheik nodded. "He's the reason you're alive."

"Well...shouldn't I go thank him?" Still entranced by that moment of magical eye contact they had shared, Zelda began to walk towards him. With a nervous laugh, Sheik grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"Eh, your time will come. For now, I would suggest avoiding him."

"Why? He's the leader! Shouldn't he be the one approaching me, anyway?" Zelda folded her arms, slightly irritated.

"Trust me on this, Princess—"

"Please, call me Zelda."

"Zelda. Link's a great guy. He really is! I mean, the kid's my best friend. But..." He sighed heavily, looking over at Link with a sympathetic expression. "Just let him come to you. He's not the most open person."

"He's the leader of this camp. Shouldn't he be the most open person here?"

"Don't get me wrong, he's a great leader! It's just that he can be...well...harsh," Sheik admitted. "He used to be really friendly, but ever since—well, never mind. You'll meet him soon. But especially after what happened last night, he'll need some space."

"He'll need some space? _He'll_ need some space?" Zelda scoffed in disbelief at this answer. "He appears to be an extremely selfish man, judging from first impressions. If he thinks that he needs space, how in Hyrule does he think I feel?" Her voice cracked.

In an unexpected flurry of emotion, everything Zelda had been holding in poured out. Simply hearing the pathetic explanation of why the Loyalist leader would not be spoken to triggered feelings of anger, grief, and misery that she had been trying to keep silenced inside of her. Link reminded her of the reason she was here, in the Loyalist camp, rather than in the comfort of her castle, watching protectively over her people.

Sheik saw it coming, and stepped forward when Zelda collapsed onto her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. He crouched down beside her, embracing her soothingly there in the middle of the training ground. The princess's shuddering body was numb to his touch; it was numb to everything. She was unaware of the stares that she was now receiving from the distracted warriors, and the fact that they had completely stopped what they were doing to stare at her. She could no longer filter out the true emotions that rushed through her mind, and all of her regrets and sorrows became as clear as crystal. Her life would never be the same. Her castle was no longer hers; her entire kingdom was no longer hers. Then, she remembered Teacher's empty eyes, staring up at her with the most desolate and heart-breaking expression...

When she finally managed to calm herself down enough to speak, she pulled away momentarily to look at Sheik. His eyes were soft and sympathetic, his brow scrunched in concern. Out of the corner of her eye, Zelda could see the Loyalist leader, Link, gazing at her. She could not bring herself to look over at him. Instead, she kept her attention on Sheik.

"Sheik..." she managed in between heavy breaths and sniffles.

"Yes?"

"Who was that woman? The one who tried to kidnap me?" Zelda stared at him with sullen, expectant eyes as he gently brushed the tears from her cheeks. He seemed reluctant to reply.

"She's a Rebel general..."

"No, I mean, what's her name?"

Sheik sighed heavily. "Damita."

"Damita..." Zelda echoed, narrowing her eyes. She remembered Sheik saying her name the night before. "Is she the one who killed Teacher?"

"Zelda—"

"Answer me!" she screamed. The tears kept on flowing, though her voice was now steady with rage. "Is she one who murdered him?"

For a few moments, Sheik stared at her in heavy silence. Then, he slowly opened his mouth and spoke.

"Yes."

"Damita..." Zelda closed her eyes, recalling the woman's face. She remembered the bright green eyes and silver strands of hair, and the cold voice that had threatened her without hesitation. "I'm going to kill her."

"What in Din's name are you _talking_ about?" Sheik was taken aback, and widened his eyes with a surprised gasp. "You're going to _what_?"

"I'm going to kill her." _Damita is the one who killed Teacher. She's the one who took everything away from me..._

"For Din's sake, Zelda," Sheik laughed humorlessly. "You just escaped Hyrule Castle with your life, and you're already thinking of revenge? You need to stay calm and think rationally. You couldn't kill her anyway! She's much too strong!"

"I am thinking rationally," Zelda persisted bluntly. The anger bubbling inside of her seemed to be controlling every word she said...the tears evaporated. No longer hindered by hesitance, she turned her face to the Loyalist leader, who was glaring at her with narrowed eyes and an unreadable expression. His cold comportment only made her sentiments stronger. Then, she made a vow to herself.

"I'm going to kill Damita if it's the last thing I do."

* * *

**Well, there ya have it! Zelda's first day at the Loyalist camp! Tell me what you guys think! Comments, questions, maybe even suggestions? Thanks again! ^_^**


	15. Prayer

**Hi! Chapter fourteen! Warning: it's short, and it's what I like to call a transition chapter. In other words, there's not really a lot of action because it's really meant to help the story move smoothly from one event or era to another. So, accordingly, the next couple chapters after this one will be pretty eventful, just as the ones before this were! So please bear with me...haha, enjoy! I hope you like it!  
**

* * *

Chapter Fourteen: Prayer 

Damita could feel the warmth of the blood that trickled down her back, and even regardless of its heat, it sent shivers up her spine. The stars were still vaguely visible in the sky, dark in the early dawn. Her breathing was unsteady and heavy, as she stood motionless. Her hands were tied to two posts on either side of her, stretching her out and giving her a large sense of vulnerability. Her back, now completely bare except for the small cloth on her torso, shimmered with sweat, blood, and the newly opened gashes. The pain that pulsed through her body was not a pain that she had not experienced; battles had numbed her mind to any physical pain at this level. Still...it hurt.

"Hyah!"

She heard the crack of the whip for the fifth time, and in the next moment, the excruciating burning erupted in her skin. Damita could hear the sound of the whip against her flesh, and simply that made it difficult to keep from flinching. She clenched her teeth, closing her eyes to keep herself composed. If she so much as let out a whimper, she would never forgive herself; Damita was not the kind of girl to show any weakness that she was feeling.

_Five more..._she thought. _I can do it._

The whip came down once more, and the blood became thicker on her skin. Slowly, the sun continued rising. Habitually, her fingers clenched into tight, frustrated fists. At that moment, she became aware of the pain that was also stinging in her left shoulder...the spot where Sheik had elbowed her. And as she was whipped for the seventh time, she could not keep her knees from buckling. The only things that kept her standing were the chains that tied her hands to the posts. With each passing moment, and with each hiss of the whip, Damita became more tempted to scream at the top of her lungs. But she knew that she didn't have to; she could resist this kind of torture long enough to stay calm.

_Nine..._She counted in her head, and her back burned. _Ten..._

"Hyah!"

As if sensing her premature feelings of relief, the man whipping her put all of his strength into his last smash. The rope came down on her at breakneck pace; causing a pain that surpassed all of the others with flying colors. As her legs shook more tremulously, she found herself having to bite her tongue to keep from screaming. She closed her eyes as tightly as she possibly could, praying that the darkness behind her eyelids could drown out the pain rushing through her skin.

_Pain is nothing...it's all mental. It doesn't matter now. It's over. _

She kept her eyes closed as she felt the man step closer and begin untying the chains at her wrists. He undid her left arm first: it fell limply at her side, almost completely disabled by Sheik's destructive attack. As soon as her right hand was free, she fell to her knees in the sand, hyperventilating. Each deep, shuddering breath made her back hurt more, but she tried with all of the strength inside of her to block out the misery.

"All right," the man began, grabbing her arm tightly. Mercilessly, he dragged her to her feet, ignoring the expressions of agony that crossed her features, regardless of how hard she tried to conceal them. "Now the fasting begins."

Damita refused to look up into the man's face as he stepped forward, dragging her harshly beside him. She followed with a contempt that burned with a fire nearly as strong as the one that stung her back. He stared straight ahead, but somehow, Damita could sense that he was not walking with an air of conceit. Rather, it was an air of fear and reluctance. Even in these dire circumstances, she found herself smiling discreetly. She was in a pathetic, extremely vulnerable state, yet simply her presence instilled fear in this man and undeniably the other members of the camp. Her name was known; her skills were even more known. It was a small consolation during this horrendous situation.

Damita glanced backwards, and found that the camp was getting smaller and smaller with each step. This man was dragging her further away, near the very center of the desert. With each step they took, the sun also rose higher and shined brighter upon them. Slowly, her stomach began to churn uncomfortably. She felt exhaustion deep down in her bones, and it spread mercilessly through the rest of her body to the point that she was ready to collapse. After the invasion, she had been prepared to sleep for an entire week. Now, with all of her remaining energy sapped by the ruthless lashings, she was surprised that her eyes were still open. In the sand, she left a trail of blood from the gashes in her back.

"You must not move from this spot," the man finally said, stopping in his tracks. His hand grasping Damita's arm was the only thing that kept her standing.

_I really don't have a choice, do I?_ She thought dryly as they approached a tall, chipping wooden post dug deep into the sand. It was placed right in the center of the desert, and when Damita looked back again, the camp was nowhere in sight. In fact, there was nothing at all anywhere. It was sand as far as the eye could see, and at this sight, her heart quickened. Then, the man grabbed her wrists and tied them together behind the post, and as soon as he let go of her, her knees betrayed her and she crumpled.

Damita, on her shaky knees in the middle of the Gerudo desert, barely had the strength to lift her head. Because her hands were tied so tightly, her back was nearly as straight as the post, and the tender red skin was only irritated more. With the small amount of energy remaining, she glared up at the man with narrowed eyes. She could see him become uncomfortable under her gaze, and he stumbled backwards clumsily.

"I shall return for you at sundown," he stuttered. "Until then, no food or water."

With that, he turned around and walked back toward the distant camp. Damita watched him with bloodshot eyes and a pounding heart. Then, with a desperation that she could barely comprehend, she began to pray. Clenching her teeth, she turned her face up to the sky, ignoring the rays of sun beating down upon her cheeks.

"Please, Din," she murmured. "Give me strength."

* * *

Link walked into the stables with a strange, uncomfortable turning in his stomach. Goose bumps covered his skin, even though it was a hot, sunny summer's day. His teeth were clenched in aggravation, though he wasn't exactly sure why. Perhaps it was the way the princess had looked at him; he'd never seen such pained, beautifully agonized eyes. The features of her picturesque face had been as blank as stone...yet he could see everything she was feeling from that one moment of eye contact. He could see the turmoil of her mind and the grief she was trying to block out, and the feeling of guilt after that gaze still remained. When she had broken down in the middle of the training field, Link hadn't known what to do.

_Sheik took care of it..._He reassured himself. There was still that lingering regret, like a feather hovering lightly over a lake. He should've approached her; after all, he was the Loyalist leader. It was his job specifically to take care of the princess, whatever the circumstances.

Trying to shake the worried thoughts from his head, Link stepped up to Epona's stable, and she welcomed him with a familiar and friendly whinny. Before he could so much as smile, she pressed her nose against his chest, forcing him to stumble backwards. With a quiet chuckle, he ran his hands over the warm hair of her face, basking in the familiarity of the touch. Regardless of this momentary distraction, he still could not get the princess out of his head. Something about her presence made him uneasy; she was so delicate and vulnerable. She wouldn't be safe in the camp for much longer. The Rebels knew where the camp was, even if they did have to cut through acres of dense forestry to reach it. They knew, and that's all that Link needed to be concerned.

"Epona, what would you do?" he whispered, as if she could understand. The gorgeous mare simply bobbed her head, stomping in her stall restlessly. Finally, succumbing to her silent desires with a sigh, Link grabbed a bridle and saddle, then opened Epona's stall.

"Link? Is that you?" Malon's voice echoed from the other end of the stall, and Link whirled around.

"Yeah, it's just me." As he prepared Epona, Malon walked up to him with that cute, innocent expression on her face.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Come on, Link. You don't just randomly take out Epona for rides. You only do it when you're stressed," she giggled. She clasped her hands behind her back and began rocking on her heels, staring at him with an accusing eye.

"Malon, it's really nothing."

"Is it the princess?" Malon raised her eyebrows when Link stopped what he was doing and just stared at her. Then, with a coy grin, she began twirling a lock of red hair around her finger. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

"Yes."

"Is that really all you have to say?" Malon rolled her eyes with a scoff. "Why are you so worried? She's safe, isn't she?"

"Well, for starters, the princess of Hyrule is in a camp that the Rebels know about. Plus, I have no idea what to do with her. How am I supposed to keep her safe?" he finally replied in exasperation. Malon blinked, slowly, and then looked at him as if he were an idiot. He furrowed his brow questioningly.

"What?"

"Link, listen to you!" she laughed. "It seems as though you care more about yourself than the princess! Think about _her_, not you. You already do enough of that."

"I am thinking of her!"

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"Then go talk to her. Comfort her. She needs it right now, especially from the man who has her life in his hands." Before Link could react, Malon viciously grabbed the bridle from his hands and hid it behind her back. "No riding! Go talk to her right now."

Just as Link was about to argue, he realized that what Malon said was true. At that moment, he should've been thinking about the princess, and trying to console her in her time of need.

"I can put Epona away for you. Go, Prince Charming." Malon began leading Epona back to her stall, though the horse snorted in irritation and attempted to step back to her master. Malon expertly calmed her down and finally ushered her into her stall. "What are you still doing here? Don't make Sheik do everything!"

"I'm not!"

"Then hurry up, you lazy bum! Get out of here!" She laughed to herself merrily as Link dragged himself out of the stall, slightly upset with the fact that he was not going to ride Epona. Still, Malon could not be more correct with her accusations. Link was still hesitant.

_She needs you_, Link told himself as he made his way to her tent. _Just introduce yourself, comfort her, tell her that she's safe and welcome..._

Link still harbored the fear that when he looked into her sad, alluring eyes, he would crumble.

* * *

**I'll update as soon as I can, but reviews would be wonderful! Thanks again to everybody who is reading this, it truly means a lot to me! **


	16. Old Relic

**Hi everybody! This is chapter fifteen! It's going to be the last chapter I update for the next ten days, because I'm going to tennis camp! Yeah, it has its advantages and disadvantages. I can't bring my laptop, so I can't update anything :( But I'll jump right back into it when I get back in two weeks! So for now, enjoy this chapter that I whipped up, and I will see you in ten days!**

* * *

Chapter Fifteen: Old Relic

Link was still having second thoughts as he got closer and closer to Princess Zelda's tent, and each step made the goose bumps on his skin pulse. He still didn't know why he was so worried about speaking with her; after being a Loyalist for so long, Link was used to welcoming new arrivals. Still, something about the princess made him uneasy. It wasn't just the way she'd looked at him. It was something else that he couldn't quite pinpoint, something that was sure to irk him for the rest of the time that she was a part of the camp. It was easy for Link to face bloodthirsty Rebels and fatal assassins...comforting a princess was a little more difficult.

His feet instinctively halted outside of the entrance to her tent, and he stared at it blankly for a few idle moments. He lifted his hand to open the flap, but thought better of it and lowered his hand again. There was complete silence in the tent, almost as if there was nobody in there at all. Sighing, Link finally took a step forward and moved the flap, peeking inside. Princess Zelda was inside, but she was sitting on the bed with a solemn expression on her face. In her lap was the small knapsack she had brought with her from the castle, and she was rummaging through it with a strange sense of urgency.

Link found himself unable to pull away, for his infamous curiosity had gotten the better of him. So he stood outside f the princess's tent, narrowing his eyes and trying to see what it was for which Zelda was searching. Then, before he could even realize where his mind was headed, he found himself examining her. Malon's words echoed in his head.

_"She's beautiful...isn't she?"_

Though he could only see her profile, he was almost stricken breathless. He had never really taken the time to truly _look_ at her, and now that he was, he couldn't seem to look away. Perfectly straight golden hair fell down against her back and over her shoulders, and porcelain skin adorned her slender figure. Her dress was torn and dirty, but Link could see that it was once an elegant and sophisticated nightgown. As she bent over the small bag in her lap, Link could see the worry etched onto her face, and became concerned himself. Yet for some reason, even after her beauty had captivated him, he couldn't walk into the tent. It seemed as if there was a small voice screaming in his head, warning him. Just as always, it wasn't just any voice. It was Damita's voice, reminding him of her everlasting presence inside of his head.

_Damita's not here,_ he tried to convince himself, finally looking away and turning his back to the tent. _I'm not betraying her. This has nothing to do with her._

"Princess Zelda is here? Really?" a familiar voice cried, and Link looked to where the scream had come. Sure enough, Shad and Sheik were standing outside of another tent, and in a split second, Shad came rushing toward Zelda's small hideout. A broad smile was spread across his face, and his usual amount of energy was almost doubled. Feeling a bit jittery himself, Link stepped away from the entrance, allowing Shad a straight path. The scholar, after adjusting his glasses, nodded to Link distractedly and then peeked through the tent.

"Princess? Is that really you?" he began. Link closed his eyes, and a few moments later, he heard Zelda's voice, and Shad disappeared into the tent.

"Shad! What are you doing here?"

"Why, Princess, I'm a Loyalist!"

"Well, I can't say I'm surprised. After what happened, nothing really surprises me anymore."

Her voice was sweet and smooth, like honey flowing through Link's ears, but the cynicism dripping in her tone made him frown.

"That's the real reason I left the castle the day of the invasion. I needed to come speak with Link. And, actually, I wasn't really training to become an advisor. In actuality, I was providing the Loyalists with a perspective of events occurring in the castle. So, as you can easily imagine, I had to leave straight after the Twilight Ball," he explained with a nervous chuckle.

Link opened his eyes, and found himself face to face with Sheik.

"What are you doing, you dork?"

"I-I'm not doing anything." Link stepped away from the tent guiltily, trying to hide the fact that he had been listening to their conversation and keep his cool. Sheik, with his arms folded across his chest and his eyebrows raised in suspicion, could evidently see right through his best friend's facade.

"Really? Because it looked to me like you were eavesdropping on our new arrival."

"I wasn't," he defended. "I was going to welcome her, but then Shad went in there, and I—"

"All right, all right," Sheik rolled his eyes. "Well, are you going to go in there or not?"

Together, Sheik and Link peeked into the tent. Shad was sitting on a chair opposite the princess, who was still at the foot of her bed. It seemed to Link as though she'd found the object she was looking for in her knapsack. A bundle of green cloth sat in her lap replacing it.

"She seems busy. Maybe I should come back later..."

"I couldn't leave this behind," she was saying, stroking the cloth longingly. Shad nodded understandingly. Sheik and Link were still as confused as ever. Then, she lifted it up, revealing it to be an ancient and dirty tunic. Link narrowed his eyes incredulously, and Sheik stuck out his tongue in silent gagging.

"That thing is decrepit," he whispered.

"I wonder why that old relic important to her."

"Well of course you couldn't, Princess!" Shad replied enthusiastically. Zelda smiled. "I must say, the Hero of Twilight's tunic is not something that should be left unprotected."

Link and Sheik looked at each other in realization, and then retreated from the entrance of the tent.

"Well, the Hero of Twilight sure did have a great sense of style," he scoffed sarcastically. "What a beautiful shade of green!"

"She must've had it for a while," Link assumed. "Perhaps ever since she was a young girl. I'm surprised that it's clean enough to carry around at all. It was probably way past its prime when the Hero of Twilight passed it down to the Royal Family."

"I bet some fortunate soul had loads of fun cleaning that masterpiece."

"Speaking of which..." Link's mind had wandered from the subject, and trying to distract Sheik, he began slowly walking away. "I just had an idea."

"Oh geez, if cleaning an old tunic made you think of this idea, I don't know if I want to hear it."

To Link's delight, Sheik didn't even realize that he was leading him away from Zelda's tent. He had finally found a way to avoid speaking with the princess. Something inside of his conscious warned him against it, as if there was a subconscious fear of which he wasn't aware. He just didn't want to speak with her.

"I was thinking, that since Zelda's going to be here for a while—"

"No."

"You didn't even let me finish," Link glared at him.

"I know where this is going, and I don't like it." Sheik was still oblivious to the fact that they were getting further and further from the princess's tent.

"Sheik. Come one," Link sighed. "If she's going to stick around, she might as well be of help."

"We're not going to make the princess of Hyrule clean for us!" Sheik threw his hands up in exasperation, stopping in his tracks.

"Why not? I'm sure she's capable of doing it. Cooking, cleaning...stuff like that. And she'll be bored anyway just sitting around for the next couple of months."

"Hey, here's an idea smart one," Sheik tilted his head. "Let's _train_ her! Then, maybe she'll be able to defend herself the next time she's attacked. And trust me, pal, there will be a next time."

"Sheik," Link sighed. "How on earth are we going to train a princess? She probably doesn't even have the strength to lift a sword."

"That's why we're here," Sheik said dryly, putting his arm around Link's shoulder. The Loyalist leader rolled his eyes and scoffed. "If we can train little six year-old kids, then we can train a twenty-one year-old princess."

"I suppose," Link finally nodded. "But I still think she should help Malon with the cleaning and the cooking."

"Link, she's probably never worked a day in her life. She's the princess of Hyrule, for crying out loud!" Sheik laughed humorlessly.

"Well," Link raised his eyebrows, and his old mischievousness returned for a few moments. "That's why we're here."

"Man, I knew that would come back and bite me in the butt."

* * *

Nabooru, angry and quite disappointed in herself, walked among the other Rebels in the camp with a cold expression. Her hands were instinctively in fists, and the only thing she could think about was Link's interference with their perfect plan. Damita had done everything perfectly, even taking into consideration a Loyalist invasion; still, Link had been able to outsmart her. It had happened time and time again. It seemed as if in this game of chess, the Rebels were always in check. And just when it seemed possible to put the Loyalists into a checkmate...they failed.

"Nabooru, I want details about the invasion," Telma suddenly demanded, standing in Nabooru's way. The exhausted Nabooru snarled, and then folded her arms. "What happened?"

"You know, I really don't want to talk about it, Telma."

"Well then where's Damita? Perhaps I can get something out of her," Telma shrugged.

"Trust me, Telma, she won't want to talk about it either. And, actually, I don't know where she is," Nabooru replied. Then, she furrowed her brow curiously, finally acknowledging her friend's absence. As they stood, staring at each other with perplexed expressions, a man walked past them, and he seemed a bit shaken after obviously hearing their conversation. Sensing his uneasiness, Telma grabbed his arm with a sly smirk.

"Caine, do you know where Damita is?" she asked. "We can't find her."

"D-Damita?" he stuttered, swallowing. Nabooru got a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Yeah. D'ya know where she's at?" Telma continued, letting go of his arm.

"Master ordered me to...well..." He seemed reluctant to admit Damita's whereabouts. Nabooru could not keep her temper and impatience harnessed at that point.

"Caine! Tell me where she is!" she cried, grabbing his collar.

"She's at the fasting post!"

Nabooru's face fell, and she let go of Caine. The words slowly sunk in, and her eyes widened slightly as her heart dropped to her stomach. Caine straightened out his shirt, then sighed heavily before continuing.

"Master ordered ten lashings and then a day of fasting for her failure," he explained. Nabooru cringed, and worry and fear began dancing eloquently inside of her. She could only imagine Damita out in the middle of the desert, exhausted and ready to give up...

"I'm going to get her," she decided, pushing past Telma and Caine.

"Nabooru, are you crazy? Master won't be happy if you do that!" Telma called after her. Nabooru didn't slow down; in fact, the warnings made her go faster.

"I don't care! I'm not going to let Damita die out there!"

* * *

Slowly, Damita was fading. All sense of time was lost in her mind, and she had no idea if she had been tied to that post for minutes, hours, or even seconds. The only thing she could feel was her unquenchable thirst and the rays of merciless sun charring her delicate skin. She tried to close her eyes and sleep, for her exhaustion was unlike any she'd ever felt. It seemed as though the thirst in her throat and the heat on her face were deliberately making it impossible for her to fall asleep, not to mention the newly opened gashes on her back being pressed against the wooden post. Her body was in so much pain that she was almost numb to it. Her biggest desire at that moment was simply a drop of water.

_Come on, get through this, Damita,_ she told herself with the little energy that she had. _Master wouldn't let you die. He needs you...doesn't he?_

Her head dangled dangerously, and her eyelids fluttered. Her head pounded in the heat, and her limbs shook in hunger and weakness.

"Yes...He does need you. He wouldn't let you die."

The eerie, familiar voice caused Damita to snap up her head in surprise. For a moment, there was nobody there.

_The heat is getting to me..._she decided, closing her eyes and relaxing her head again.

"Damita."

A shadow came over her, providing her with a small amount of solace. She sighed heavily, then looked up at the person who was casting this shadow. At the sight, she caught her breath, and tears unexpectedly appeared at the brink of her eyes.

"N-no, this definitely can't be real," she whispered.

"Damita..." The person crouched down to their level.

"Link." She stared into his eyes, and found herself smiling shakily. He was just as she remembered him; handsome, strong, possessing a smile that could make her heart stop. She couldn't help the tears that rolled down her cheeks at the sight of him.

"I am real," he said. His voice was quiet, but Damita could hear it was if he were speaking right inside of her head. "And I miss you."

"I miss you, too..." she murmured, looking away. His mesmerizing eyes were too much for her to bear. She could see her reflection, and the reflections of their memories. "I miss you so, so much." She was now sobbing, yet still trying to compose herself. Her strength was still at a minimum. In fact, she barely had the energy to cry. Still, the tears flowed.

"I'm here now, though," Link continued with his alluring smile. "I'm here to make sure you're safe."

He reached forward and put his hands on her cheeks, leaning forward toward her. His skin was chilling yet refreshing on hers, but his beautiful smile only made her cry harder. Then, as she gazed into his eyes, she could see tears appearing in his own eyelids.

"Don't cry," he said. "Please don't cry. I hate to see you upset."

"I don't know if I can go any longer," she wept. He stroked her flustered cheeks with his thumb, then leaned forward, and gently placed his lips on hers. She reached forward more, but found herself being pulled back by the chains on her hands. Then, hauntingly, Link put his mouth to her ear.

"Then come back to me," he murmured. Damita's heart pounded, and as if by some strange outside force, all of her energy left. "I love you."

"I love you...Link..." She could barely speak.

"Come back to me. Please, Damita. Come back." He kissed her again. "I need you."

"No...I'm the one who needs you..."

There was an array of bright colors, and Link's face began spinning in front of her. With her last ounce of strength, she began screaming.

"Link! Don't leave!"

Then everything was black.

* * *

**I hope you liked it, don't forget to leave your reviews for me! BYE, SEE YOU AFTER TENNIS CAMP! I LOVE YOU ALL! :3**


	17. First Words

**Hi guys! I'm back after a GREAT ten days at tennis camp! Of course, I'm so excited to be back, and I'm ready to pour my heart into my fanfics once more :) I hope you guys like this chapter, because personally, I like it! So...yeah! That's it! Enjoy!  
**

* * *

Chapter Sixteen: First Words

Nabooru raced through the desert, ignoring the harsh heat of the sun as she sprinted elegantly. She could sense herself getting farther and farther away from the Rebel village, but each step she took only encouraged her to keep moving. She was running toward the very middle of the desert, where the heat was the most dangerous and the sun was highest. It was also the home of the fasting post, one of the worst punishments Master could administer. It was reserved only for the traitors and truly low rats of the camp, and it was not unusual for the criminals to die on the fasting post. The fact that Master had put Damita there made Nabooru's blood boil in rage and disgust. She was not a traitor; in fact, she was the most important Rebel in the camp. Even Master could attest to that, and still, he was willing to risk her life.

"Damita!" Nabooru called as the post came into her view. She narrowed her eyes and began moving faster, trying to look past the mirages of the desert. She could almost hear the searing rays of sun burning her skin. It was, after all, an exceptionally hot day.

Then, before Nabooru even reached the post, she heard Damita's distant screaming. It was muffled, though, and the Gerudo warrior could not decipher what Damita was saying. Still, the shrieks made her heart wrench, and she pushed herself past the sweat and pain to move more swiftly. And just when Nabooru was convinced that she could run no further, she arrived at her destination.

"Damita, darling, are you all right?" She fell onto her knees at the post, putting her hands on Damita's flushed cheeks. The young girl was still, leaning against the post with her hair matted to her face. Her eyelids fluttered, reassuring Nabooru that she was still alive. But her breathing was raspy and shallow, and her chest was just barely rising and falling.

"Everything's going to be all right," Nabooru whispered urgently, wracking her mind for some kind of solution to this problem. "I'm going to get you out of here, darling, I am." Her heart was pounding as she made her way to the back of the post, where chains were mercilessly digging into her best friend's wrists. The blood dripping into the sand and smeared against the wood made her flinch.

When she looked back at Damita, her lips were moving incomprehensibly, as if she were trying unsuccessfully to speak.

"Don't worry, you'll be safe soon..." Nabooru mumbled, more to herself than to Damita. Then, instinctively remembering the spear in her possession, she stood up. With a ferocious snarl, she used the sharp tip of her spear to slice through the chains. The first time, sparks flew from the contact, but the chains did not loosen. It was only on the third time that the chains finally broke, releasing Damita from her bonds. With a soft moan, Damita fell forward into the sand, and Nabooru got the first glimpse of the savage, bloody marks on her back.

"Look what they've done to you, my darling," she sighed shakily, dropping her spear and rushing to Damita's aid. She grabbed her shoulders and forced her up, being as gentle as she could. Then, she was finally able to make out what Damita had been repeating in her unconsciousness, over and over again...

"Link...Link...Link..."

* * *

Damita opened her eyes and just stared at the roof of the tent. Nabooru sighed in relief, smiling just slightly, and placed the cold wet towel on Damita's forehead. The girl had a hollow, glassy expression on her face as she stared upwards, still recovering from her shaky state. Still, she was alive, and simply for that Nabooru was grateful.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, sitting comfortingly on the bed. Damita opened her mouth, but then closed it again, as if she wasn't exactly sure how to respond. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of silence, she opened her mouth again.

"Can I have a cup of water?"

"Of course, darling, of course," Nabooru nodded vivaciously, standing up and moving to the other side of the tent. Still trembling with relief, she managed to get the water into the cup.

"He came to visit me." Damita blinked away tears as Nabooru made her way back to her bedside.

"Who did?" she asked, though she already knew the answer. And it made the pace of her heart quicken in concern.

"Link did."

"It was all just a dream, Damita. Nothing more." Nabooru helped Damita sit up, and then handed her the glass of water. For a few moments, she simply stared at her dismal reflection in the water, silent and wounded. All Nabooru wanted at that moment was for Damita to forget about whatever she saw and concentrate on her recovery...

"No. It was real. He came to save me." She took a sip of the water, wincing at the pain that was still coursing through her body. Even though her wounds were bandaged, they were still fresh, and her body was weak.

"Damita, Link's not here. I'm the one who saved you, not him," Nabooru persisted, getting a bit irked. Though Damita was still recovering from her endeavor, it was amazing that she still had the ability to irritate her best friend.

"Yes, but he was there. He told me he loved me...and he kissed me, so gently..."

"Damita—"

"Nabooru," Telma called her name, peeking into the tent. The Gerudo whirled around to face her, and butterflies started fluttering in her stomach. "Master wants to see ya."

"Very well. I will be there shortly," she nodded, using all of her skill to hide her trepidation. Her worries only increased, and though she was reluctant to leave Damita, she was even more reluctant to see Master.

"All right. Damita...good to see you're doin' all right, sweet pea," Telma winked at the bed-ridden assassin.

"Thank you, Telma."

Nabooru stood up hesitantly, moving to join Telma outside with the speed of molasses. Before she left, she turned back to Damita one last time.

"I hope you know, Damita, that you are such a strong person," she said, hoping that maybe it would help her leave Link behind. "Get some rest."

"Master's furious, I hope ya know that," Telma began as she led Nabooru away from Damita's tent. Suddenly, her encounter with the Master was all of which she could think. All worries about Link and Damita melted away...if only for that moment.

"Yes. I know," she replied, sighing and straightening her back. "And I'm willing to face him."

"I just hope ya do all right in there," Telma shook her head with an uneasy smile. "Din knows what that man is willin' to do."

"I don't regret saving her."

"Well I think it was a noble thing for ya to do, but Master won't think so highly." Telma raised her eyebrows warningly as they finally arrived at Master's grand tent. They stood outside the entrance for a while. "Good luck, Nabooru. You're gonna need it."

With that, Nabooru entered the master's tent, ignoring the warning screams inside of her head.

* * *

Zelda watched Shad walk outside, still running her hand along the soft tunic in her lap. He gave one last charming smile before leaving her alone, and she tucked her blonde hair behind her pointed ear as she looked after him. She crossed her legs, but then uncrossed them again. Inside of that tent, with her dirty nightgown, disheveled hair, and confused mind, Princess Zelda was becoming restless. Outside darkness was still far away, though the sun was descending lower and lower with each moment, but the airy outdoors were calling her name. But the most persuading desire inside of her head was the one wanting her to speak with the Loyalist leader, Link.

_Why should I want to talk to him?_ She thought to herself, pursing her lips in contempt. _He doesn't want to talk to me. He's not worth the trouble._ Her fingers gently traced the creases of the Hero's tunic. _Perhaps I should go find Sheik, ask him if I can bathe somewhere..._

Using that excuse as her rationale to leave the tent, Zelda dusted herself off from the tunic's old residue and stood up. Leaving her belongings inside, she roamed outside, harboring the hope that she would once again find and meet Link's eyes. Of course, he was not there. Sheik was not, either. Zelda found herself surrounded by unfamiliar faces gawking at her, some smiling and some simply raising their eyebrows in amazement. She could only stare back at them, unsure of how to react. She wished that Sheik were there to help guide her.

"Is that the princess?" "So the rumors are true!" The whispers plagued her as she walked, and she suddenly regretted coming outside.

_I should've just waited. I'm never going to find him out here, anyway._ She wasn't even sure if she were thinking about Sheik...or Link. The princess clasped her hands in front of her and continued walking as elegantly as she could, though her shaken state prevented her from being as graceful as she could be. _Oh, how I wish I were back at the castle, surrounded by people that I actually know._

As she walked, Zelda finally came across a building in which she could take refuge. She wasn't sure exactly what it was, but she knew that with it she could escape the horrors of being gaped upon in such a way. It was not a tent, but a solid building made of wood, and she entered it without a single moment's hesitation. Zelda, being a princess, usually adored being looked at; however, at that moment, she was ragged and dirty and wounded (both emotionally and physically). She didn't want anybody looking at her at all, for she appeared nothing like the princess that she truly was.

"Oh, thank Nayru that's over," she breathed in relief, leaning her back on the closed door. A small amount of solace washed over her after finally escaping the eyes of so many beholders. But only moments after walking inside, she scrunched up her face in disgust, wondering what in the world was causing that foul, unfamiliar smell. It was mostly dark inside, with only a few rays of light shimmering in through the cracks in the wooden walls and the roof. Furrowing her brow in curiosity, Zelda stepped forward and found a strange type of cushion beneath her feet.

_Is this...hay?_ She bent down and examined what was on the floor, letting the thin blades slip through her fingers. Then, as if on cue, she heard the whinny of a horse. _Of course; the horse barn. _

"Hello? Is anybody here?" she called uncertainly. There was no reply, so she ventured to take a few more steps. Then, she could almost feel the warmth of the horses emanating from their bodies, and as her eyes became accustomed to the darkness, she could see the silhouettes of the horses. There were so many stalls, more than she could count, and before she even realized, she found herself smiling.

_I can't remember the last time I was in a horse barn,_ she grinned. Her disgusted expression disappeared into one of joy and nostalgia, and she gently ran her hand along the noses of the horses that she passed. Their hair was soft beneath her dirty palm. Memories of her mother and father teaching her about the history of Hyrule's horses flooded into her mind, and she remembered the first time she had ridden a horse. She had gone on a ride with her father...

Suddenly, one horse stuck its head out of the stall without warning, directly blocking the princess's path. With a yelp of surprise, Zelda stumbled backwards, widening her eyes at this unexpected obstruction. Even in the darkness, she could clearly make out the characteristics of this eccentric horse. It bobbed its head incessantly, whinnying loudly. Zelda, after recovering from her initial surprise, calmed herself down and grinned. The horse was absolutely beautiful, with a shiny copper coat and a mane the color of ivory. One white streak ran from its forehead to its muzzle, and its eyes were large and brown, gazing into Zelda's with a special glint.

"Hey," she smiled, moving forward. When she lifted her hand, the horse bobbed its head more vivaciously and attempted to move away. "Shh, it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you..."

Soothingly, Zelda put her hand to the horse's muzzle. For a few moments, she was frightened that the majestic creature was going to lift its head and bite her...but it slowly calmed down as Zelda ran her fingers through its shimmering coat. It responded wonderfully to her touch.

"You're so beautiful," she whispered, stroking the horse gently. Looking deeply into the sad, glittering eyes, Zelda could somehow tell that she was mare. "Good girl..."

Zelda's heart stopped when the door at the entrance swung open, letting the bright light of the outside world rush in. She squinted, unaccustomed, but kept her hands on the horse's muzzle. She heard a few footsteps, and instinctively attempted to sulk into the shadows. Perhaps she wasn't supposed to be there.

"Malon? Is that you?" a voice called, and a shadow entered the barn. Zelda swallowed, debating whether or not to respond. "I came to get Epona."

She swallowed nervously, and in her anxious state, habitually ran her fingers through the horse's mane.

"Hello?"

Zelda didn't recognize the voice.

"Malon, are you in—"

The figure stopped abruptly, and just as he did, the light shined down on his face. Zelda caught her breath apprehensively as their eyes met. It was Link. The princess found that she couldn't move, as if his striking gaze paralyzed her. The Loyalist leader, with a completely blank expression, continued moving toward the horse.

"Oh, um, I'm s-sorry," Zelda stuttered, finally moving away from his mare. "Is she yours?" Link only gave a slight nod, then broke their eye contact. At the sight of him, the horse bobbed her head once more, whinnying more loudly than before. Zelda shrunk back, making way for Link.

"Shh," he soothed, scratching behind her ears and letting her nibble on his fingers.

"She's quite beautiful," Zelda continued. On the outside, she played herself as polite and good-natured. Inside, though, she was quite irked with his rude behavior, especially since she was the princess of Hyrule. "Well, I'm sorry about...well..." The princess paused, not knowing for what exactly she was apologizing. Link looked at her, still wearing his cold comportment. Nevertheless, he was beautiful, and Zelda suddenly found herself struggling to think clearly.

"Um...Good-bye," she finally stumbled, curtsying just slightly. He didn't so much as bow his head. Then she turned on her heel and began walking briskly toward the exit, trying to calm the butterflies inside of her. Her stomach had never been churning so ferociously before. Just before turning away from him, though, she could've sworn that she saw the faintest hint of a smile. It was almost enough to distract her from his abominable behavior...

Almost.

* * *

**Quite the awkward first meeting, huh? Well, tell me what you thought about it in your reviews! Chapter seventeen will be up soon! Thanks again everybody ^_^**


	18. A Midnight Swim

**Hey everybody! Wow, I'm really sorry about this long and slightly unnecessary absence. Unfortunately, I went through a small creative slump with the story, and I literally could not come up with ANY good ideas for this chapter. I rewrote it about...hmm...three times? Maybe four? And I'm still not completely satisfied with the outcome. Anyway, I hope you guys like it, because I worked hard on it! The next one will be better (and come faster) I promise! **

* * *

Chapter Seventeen: A Midnight Swim

"Nabooru. Please come in."

She was silent as she walked into the grand black tent, keeping herself wary of the surroundings. Everything was just as she remembered it: completely drowned in shadows. There was one candle in the center of the room, and beside it, Nabooru could see Damita's stained and bloody swords. She was reminded of the reason she was there, and drew in a sharp and angry breath. Master's voice was manipulative as he welcomed her, but she kept her head held high.

"I trust you know why you're here."

"No. I don't." Nabooru's defiance was known throughout the camp, and she wasn't about to let that reputation falter. She wouldn't let herself cringe when Master emitted a low, rumbling chuckle. She couldn't, however, keep the goose bumps from appearing on her bronze skin.

"Well then let me ask you a question, Nabooru," he continued. The proud Gerudo stood her ground, even when she sensed Master get up from his throne and take a step forward. He still remained hidden in the shadows. "Why are you a Rebel?"

"Because I despise the monarchy under which Hyrule is run." Her voice did not tremble.

"A vague reason. Vague...but acceptable, I suppose." He took another step. "Tell me this, then: what would you do to secure a Rebel victory?"

"_Almost_ anything," she hissed. She put emphasis on the word 'almost.' He chuckled again, and Nabooru clenched her teeth anxiously. It seemed as though inside of this tent, everything was different. It was its own little world, separated from the entire camp, serving as a haven and hiding place for their purported leader. She examined her surroundings with an eye narrowed in disdain.

"Almost...anything?"

"Yes. That's right."

"Would you sacrifice yourself for a better world, my beautiful desert rose?" Finally, with those eloquent yet superficial words, Master stepped into the little light being shed by the candle. Nabooru breathed in deeply at the sight of him, but kept her steely gaze unwavering. There was a smug expression on his face, embellished with a mischievous smirk and a strange twinkle in his eyes.

"I would."

"Of course you would," he smiled. Still, he moved closer. Nabooru used all of her strength to stand still. "Here's an even more difficult question. Would you sacrifice another life if it would save countless others?"

She took a deep breath, and then opened her mouth to reply.

"That depends—"

"On what?"

"Who the person is. How many lives will be changed..."

"Fair enough, dear." He walked around her, standing uncomfortably close. Slowly, he lifted his hand, but Nabooru stared straight forward icily. Before she could realize what was happening, his warm fingers wrapped around her bare forearm, and he leaned forward so that his lips were right in her ear. She could feel his breath on her skin, and for a moment, was traumatized.

"Why did you directly disobey my orders?" he finally asked. "And this question, Nabooru, should have a straightforward answer."

It was an obvious threat.

"Because...I disagreed with them," she finally replied. There was feigned certainty in her tone; inside, the reasons were still fairly unclear.

"Hmm. An interesting reply." He had one hand on her shoulder, and with the other, he stroked her long strands of orange hair. Master's voice was soft, almost comforting as he murmured in her ear. But Nabooru's nose twitched in repulsion.

"It wasn't a fair punishment."

"I always have a reason for my actions, dearest. I always have justification," he laughed. Here, Nabooru couldn't help but scoff.

"What justification do you have for this?" She turned her head, looking at him with the corner of her eye. His smile evaporated, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. His hand moved down to her waist, and he pulled her closer. Nabooru discreetly resisted.

"I cannot make exceptions for people simply because they are more helpful than others," he replied. "Damita is a skilled assassin and a loyal Rebel, yes. But what do you think would happen if the others figured out I let her off without a scratch?"

"She committed no crime!" Nabooru spat.

"Ah, Nabooru, my dear," he chuckled. "That is where you are wrong."

"The fasting post is for traitors, and only the worst criminals. Not esteemed generals who were merely outsmarted by the ever-strong Loyalists."

"But you see, that is a crime equally punishable," he whispered. "General Damita promised me a victory. And what did she bring to me? Shame."

"So you leave her to die?"

"I would never kill her," he snickered. "She's much too valuable."

Finally, the anger burst inside of Nabooru, and she savagely whirled around to face him. He remained unwavering, staring at her with an insolent expression.

"You think she could've survived?" she cried. "She was dying when I found her!"

"Well if she doesn't have the strength to survive it," he grinned evilly. "Then she's not worth it."

"You know that's not true," Nabooru growled. "Without Damita, this organization would crumble."

"And that is why I never planned on letting her die." Master sighed heavily and folded his arms, raising his eyebrows nonchalantly. Nabooru's blood boiled at the sight of his leisurely comportment, and her fingers clenched into fists and then unclenched in the next moment. "I trust in Damita's ability. I meant merely to teach her a lesson."

"She tried her best! Link outsmarted us! There was nothing—"

"No," he interrupted bluntly. "Link didn't outsmart you. He outsmarted Damita. And I don't mean with strategy, my lovely Nabooru."

The Gerudo was silent in response. She simply glared at him with heavy breaths and a tense body.

"So now you must understand why I did what I did," he continued. "You of all people should understand the punishment for such a weakness."

Nabooru shrank back, as if she'd been slapped, as Master took a step forward. His face was covered in shadows as the candle flickered, and with a breakneck speed, he put his beefy hands on Nabooru's cheeks. He leaned forward so closely that his lips were only inches from hers. Strangely, her fear seemed to melt away. The repulsion, however, was still there.

"Love is the worst crime of all. You know that..."

"Love can't be helped, Ganondorf."

"Trust me, Nabooru." He stepped backwards and dropped his hands from her cheeks, and all warmth that he had been displaying disappeared in a split second. It left Nabooru with a strangely cold and empty feeling. "It can be helped."

"Maybe for some," she responded icily. He gave a crooked smile, and folded his thick arms once more.

"And perhaps one day," he said. "Damita will learn to put her personal feelings aside. Until that day, she must suffer the consequences of letting love get in the way of her duty."

"This is not the way to do it."

Master's nostrils flared, and she could see him swiftly becoming more irritated.

"The way to do it is the way that I _say_ to do it," he retorted. "And when it comes to love, this is the only way to do it."

"Then I have a question for you, now, Ganondorf." Nabooru was now the one to take a step closer, and she felt sudden power over this man course through her veins. He watched incredulously.

"Why didn't you ever chain me to the fasting post?"

* * *

The sky was completely dark as Zelda hugged her knees to her chest, staring at her tearstained reflection in the river. There, in the water, she could see the disappearance of the princess. Trembling, she pressed her mouth against her legs to muffle the sobs. The world was almost completely collapsed, and she was forced to watch it with wide and shocked eyes. Suddenly angry, she grabbed a rock sitting beside her and threw it into the stream with all of the strength she had inside of her. Her face became contorted with the ever-growing ripples.

The entire camp was quiet and empty. She was the only one outside, simply because sleep had predictably been eluding her. Her mind was infested with worries about her kingdom and the castle, and strangely enough, she could not get Link's discreet smile from her mind.

_Why do I care so much about him?_ She asked herself angrily, looking up at the sky with a heavy sigh. _He was rude and insolent towards me. What is it about him that makes me wish he wasn't...?_

Zelda crossed her legs, leaning forward closer to the stream. She narrowed her eyes and stared at her own reflection with an expression of concentration. Determinedly, she searched for the remains of the princess. Her features were tired and her complexion was pale, unlike the vibrant and enthusiastic woman she once was. One more tear slipped, and she hastily wiped it away with primitive anger.

"It's okay to cry sometimes," said a calm voice. Zelda, jumping in surprise, straightened her back as he stepped up beside her. "You don't have to be so brave."

"Yes I do," she laughed dryly. "It's the duty of a princess to maintain composure."

"Even when nobody's watching?" he raised his eyebrows and took a seat beside her. He dipped his bare feet into the water, mercilessly cutting through Zelda's reflection. He looked more wild than usual, with his shaggy blond hair falling across his face and his eyes bloodshot with exhaustion. Still, there was that everlasting smile on his face.

"Well...I guess that depends."

"On what?"

Zelda didn't respond. She simply leaned her elbows on her crossed knees and stared forward glassily. Sheik, still kicking his legs gently in the water, brushed the hair from his face and looked at her.

"What are you thinking about?" asked the warrior.

"Everything I love turning to dust," she replied solemnly. "I don't belong here. I belong in Hyrule Castle, ruling my people."

"You haven't been here for very long, though," he pointed out. "How can you possibly tell whether or not you belong?"

"It's quite obvious," she sighed. "I am a princess among the bravest warriors in Hyrule, who have lived their entire lives here working. I have not worked a day in my life, Sheik."

He gave an uneasy chuckle, and then leaned back on his palms.

"You won't be able to say that after tomorrow."

Zelda looked at him from the corner of her eyes, confused at his comment.

"...What are you talking about?"

"Well, ahem," he paused. "Link wants you to help around the camp."

"Huh?"

"If it's all right with _you_, that is," Sheik nodded. "He just thought you might want something to do while you're here."

"I suppose I do," she shrugged. "What kind of work does he have in mind?"

"Cooking, cleaning, things like that," Sheik explained nonchalantly. "It won't be hard, I promise."

For a few minutes, Zelda was reasonably irritated. What right did Link have, a mere commoner, to tell her to work? But as she thought more and more about it, it made more sense inside of her head. It would be better for her to have something to do, and it was the very least she owed him for saving her life. And perhaps it would help her learn more responsibility; she would eventually need to learn how to cook, anyway.

"Very well," she finally agreed. "I'll do it. I guess whatever Link says is law around here."

"Depends on who he's talking to," Sheik chuckled. "Lots of the Loyalists here adore him. Shad, for example. If Link told him to jump off a cliff, he would do it. Then you have people like me. If Link told _me_ to jump off of a cliff, I would punch him in the face."

Zelda couldn't help but chuckle.

"Then again, we're pretty close, so I guess it's all right for me to do that," he winked.

"It surprises me that you two are such good friends." Before she even knew what she was saying, Zelda was prodding into his personal life. She found it odd that she had become so comfortable with Sheik, regardless of the fact that he'd saved her life. Still, it was unusual for her to be so open with people so quickly. As a princess, she had been taught to stay reserved.

"Really? Why do you say that?" There was a mischievous glint in his eyes and a smirk on his lips.

"You're so open and friendly," Zelda continued. "And he's so...so cold."

"Oh, did you meet him?"

Zelda nodded. "He didn't say much."

"Well, he's kind of like you," Sheik said, catching Zelda off-guard. "He doesn't open up to just anybody. It takes time to break his shell. But once you get through, it's hard to find a better friend than the man inside."

The princess had not thought about the Loyalist leader that way.

"The only difference is that you're willing to get close to people, from what I've noticed," he stated. "Link is afraid to get close to people. He's been hurt so many times by so many different people."

Guilt suddenly took root inside of her, and she furrowed her brow uneasily. She hadn't taken the time to think about his reasons for being so cold, but Sheik's explanation made so much sense. And Zelda could not stop feeling bad for the way she had thought about him. But in the back of her mind, she'd always known that there was something special about him. Just the way he carried himself intrigued her, and she found herself eager to learn more.

"What happened?" she asked. Sheik, after a heavy sigh, turned away and stopped kicking his feet.

"That's not for me to tell you," he said. "It wouldn't be my place to divulge his past to you."

Understanding yet still significantly annoyed, Zelda was silent. She dipped one finger into the water, and began swirling it around her to contort her reflection. Then, playing games with her mind, her reflection melted into the reflection of somebody else: Link. She looked into the water at him, with his cold expression and mesmerizing blue eyes.

_"Well, he's kind of like you..." _Sheik's words echoed.

"I'm going to bed now, Princess," Sheik announced. At the sound of his voice, Link's face disappeared, leaving Zelda staring at her own reflection once more. He stood up and stretched his arms casually. "I highly recommend you do the same."

With one last charming smile, he turned and gracefully walked back to the tent. Zelda grinned after him, mimicking his movements and standing up. Now her brain was whirring even more, and she knew it would be impossible to sleep. In the end, she decided on a nice midnight walk along the stream. In her long and drab white tunic and bare feet, she began her trek on the bank. She loved the silence that encompassed her; it helped her to think clearly. She stared at her own feet, each stepping in front of the other. She clasped her hands behind her back and kept her eyes down. The night breeze was refreshing compared to the harsh summer days.

"Oh!" Before she could even process what was happening, she ran into something solid and quite surprising. Her head snapped up as she lost her balance. Before she fell, she saw Link's face, with his eyes wide and his mouth parted just slightly. Then, Zelda plummeted into the stream, and she lost sight of him as she descended under the water.

She bobbed back up to the surface, gasping and spluttering. Her mind was still trying to wrap itself around what had just occurred. The stream was shallow, and she was able to stand on her tiptoes and keep her head above the glimmering surface. Then, once she had finally become aware of her situation, she saw Link kneeling at the riverside with his hand outstretched.

"Princess," he said. "I'm so sorry..."

His voice was as sweet and smooth as honey, and she smiled at him forgivingly. At that moment, all memories of his rude and silent behavior disappeared. Slowly floating toward him, she put her hand in his. The touch made her shiver, and she wondered if the contact had any similar effect on him. If it did, his face did not betray his inner feelings. In the darkness, his features were slightly obscured, but his eyes were just as bright and piercing as ever.

As if he were lifting a feather, he helped her out of the stream and onto the riverbank, where she stood shakily.

"I guess I didn't look where I was going," he stumbled as she hugged herself. The wet hair on her back and the water dripping from her clothes gave her goose bumps.

"No, it was my fault," she stuttered through chattering teeth.

Zelda was confusing herself. First, she was angry and irritated with Link; she did not appreciate how he acted toward her. Then, all of a sudden, she had forgiven him. Perhaps it was what Sheik had said. Or perhaps it was that dashing smile. Or those twinkling blue eyes. Or perhaps Zelda never thought badly of him. Perhaps subconsciously, she had felt this way the entire time.

Link did not say another word. He simply grabbed her arm gently and began leading her back to the camp. Accordingly, Zelda was quiet. She stared straight ahead, sneaking glances at him out of the corner of her eyes. And she used all of her strength to try and keep from shivering, yet she still found her knees trembling and her teeth chattering. It seemed as if the walk to her tent went on for miles and miles...miles that she trekked wordlessly alongside the Loyalist leader.

"I truly am sorry," Link apologized coldly once more in front of his tent. She simply smiled as he disappeared inside it, and then reemerged with a large quilt blanket. "I hope this will keep you warm."

"Yes, it's fine, thank you." Zelda wrapped it around herself longingly, basking in the warmth of the fabric. She was grateful, yet still wished he would be a little bit friendlier...

"Good night, then," she said. Before he could even open his mouth to reply, she turned around and walked back to her tent.

_Link,_ she thought to herself. _I want to understand you. Maybe understanding you...will help me understand myself. _

* * *

**Yeah. I hope it wasn't too boring :) Let me know your opinions in the reviews, because I'd really love to hear feedback, questions, and maybe some suggestions! Favorite characters? Favorite couples? Let me know! I love you all! ^_^**_  
_


	19. Voices

**Um...wow. Looks like my creative slump is lasting longer than I initially anticipated. This took WAY too long, and it came out way too uneventful. GAH that's frustrating. Hopefully the action in the next chapters will help me regain my inspiration for this story haha. There's still so much more to come! Anyway, I do hope you guys love it! **

**To answer, um, "TooLazyToLogin's" question, I don't really have a regular update interval. I just update whenever I finish the next chapter, and the time between updates vary. But I'll try to update quickly, and thanks for reading my story! ALL REVIEWERS AND READERS, THANK YOU! Now, enjoy :)  
**

* * *

Chapter Eighteen: Voices

Link usually enjoyed his solitude. But sitting there in his tent, slightly wet and contemplating the situation, he wished that he weren't alone. There were too many things on his mind, and he was getting overwhelmed with everything much too easily. Outside, he could hear nothing but the vague and distant footsteps of the princess as she moved back to her tent. And as the footsteps became fainter, his guilt and anxiety increased. He imagined her dragging herself forward, shivering and struggling to keep the quilt blanket around her shoulders. Trying to shake the images of her out of his mind, he put his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes agitatedly. Fortunately, the princess's face finally disappeared; unfortunately, Damita's face reappeared.

He found himself wondering why the princess was causing him so much stress. Yes, she was undeniably beautiful. The rumors about her were true. Still, he wasn't sure why that was affecting him so. Debating endlessly with himself, Link finally came to the conclusion that her beauty alone was not enough to give him these feelings. There was something else about her, some kind of mystery that made his heart pound. He wanted to know her...yet he didn't want to know her.

_She's nothing compared to me..._

He rubbed his temples, wondering why the voice was coming back. It was that silky, familiar voice of a seductive siren in his head.

_You don't even know her. And you'll never know her like you know me. _

Now, there were two different things causing him guilt.

First, there was the princess. It was true that she deserved so much more than what he was giving her; being the princess of Hyrule was enough justification for that. And still, she had been so kind to him. In the stables, with Epona...he had been flabbergasted. Epona wouldn't let anybody so much as get near her, yet she allowed Princess Zelda to pet her. Even Malon had trouble handling Epona, and without even trying Zelda had been able to do so. And then, just now, on the edge of the stream, she had surprised him yet again. When she had suddenly rammed into him, plummeting into the ice-cold water, he had not expected her to be so forgiving and kind about his foolishness. She had accepted his apology with a gentle smile, and had not even mentioned his rude and unnecessary behavior.

_Link. You don't know how she truly feels about you..._

Then there was another, strange guilt that he could not shake. Ever since the princess's arrival, he had been feeling this guilt. And Damita's voice in his head was not helping things.

_How could you ever think about replacing me?_

She was a constant presence, warning him and reminding him. Even when she was not actually with him, she kept him from moving on. Her charming smile, that mischievous look in her eyes, the way her body would melt into his, as if they were meant to be together...

Link had not even noticed the tears running down his face until he lifted his face and felt them on his cheeks.

* * *

Damita was still staring at the ceiling with a blank expression. And, of course, she was still thinking about Link when Nabooru entered the tent once more. Her face was as smooth as stone, though her eyes were icy and glazed. At the sound of her footsteps, Damita did not move, or even greet her Gerudo mentor.

"How are you feeling?" Her voice was just as steely as the look in her eyes.

"I don't know." Her answer was honest. The thoughts inside of her head were too jumbled for her to truly know whether she was fully recovered or not.

"Damita, listen to me." Nabooru, with suddenly narrowed eyes and an expression of determination, sat at Damita's bedside. She placed her hands on her bare shoulders, leaning forward with an urgent tone in her voice. "You need to let go of him. He's gone, and he's not coming back."

"That's not true," Damita whispered, trying futilely to ignore the incessant and panicky pounding of her heart. "He's still out there..."

"That's not the point!" Nabooru's voice was swiftly rising in frustration, and Damita flinched involuntarily. "You two had something at one point in time, but it's gone now. And it's never coming back."

"You're wrong!" Damita suddenly screamed, pulling away from Nabooru's grasp as she stood up. She was not acting like herself, but her experience in the desert had changed her perspective a little bit. "I still love him, and I know that wherever he is, he loves me."

She could see from the expression on Nabooru's face that she was indescribably angry, and as always, she showed it with nothing more than an icy gaze and a soft, cynical chuckle.

"Damita," she said through clenched teeth. "Love is just a myth. You of all people should know that."

"No it's not." Damita's steadfast personality would not give in.

"Stop being so stubborn!" Nabooru stood up, as well, and clenched her fists.

"Just because _your_ love failed doesn't mean mine has to!" she screamed.

A heavy silence fell over the room, and Nabooru looked away with a comportment of shame. Then, almost as swiftly as it had come, it melted into anger once more.

"Yes, Damita," she hissed. "You had a stronger love than I ever had. But you gave it up. _You_ left Link behind. It's nobody's fault but your own that now, you have no choice but to leave him behind."

"That's not true. I didn't have a choice, i-it wasn't my fault!"

"Then whose fault was it, Damita?" Nabooru cried. Damita stumbled back, as if she had been slapped across the face. "Was it Ganondorf's? Huh?"

Damita could not handle any more. Without another word, she turned and fled the tent, leaving behind the red and seething Nabooru. And though she didn't want to admit it, least of all to herself, Nabooru was right. It was her own fault that Link was gone.

_Just come back... _His voice echoed hauntingly in her head. _If you still love me, come back to me. _

_ I can't,_ she thought to herself, unconvincingly. _I'm a Rebel now. I have no choice but to fight you._

_ Of course you have a choice._ Link's melodious laugh was frighteningly realistic. _You always had a choice. _

For the first time in three years, Damita found herself wondering if she truly had made the right choice.

* * *

"Good morning, Princess! My name is Malon!" A young, pretty redhead—probably around Zelda's age, perhaps younger—greeted her outside of her tent the next morning. Zelda had not expected a visitor so early, and could only manage a humble smile. Her eyes were still droopy with the remains of sleep, and her mind was hazy with the lingering images of her dreams.

"I'll be showing you around this morning." The girl curtsied, flashing a bright and toothy smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness."

"The pleasure is all mine," Zelda replied in a daze. The girl grinned largely, and began eagerly rocking on her heels. Simply watching her movements and feeling her enthusiastic aura made the princess slightly dizzy and impatient.

"Where would you like to start?" she asked. Zelda furrowed her brow, not truly sure what the girl was asking. "I could show you around the kitchen. _Or_ I could show you how to clean the stables, or how to make the beds in the tents, or..."

Malon's words drifted in one ear and out the other as the memories of last night's events rushed into Zelda's head. Her conversation with Sheik was suddenly as clear as glass, and even more perfectly preserved was the memory of being pushed into the river by the one and only leader of the Loyalists. And then she realized where the blanket by which she'd been covered that morning had come from, and imprinted in her mind was that look on Link's face when he'd given it to her and apologized meekly. It was a far-off, distant and absentminded look that had made her strangely queasy. Curiosity, of course, spread through her like a deadly virus. She wanted to know more about Link and why he acted so coldly towards her; she wanted to discover his past, even if it meant staying at this camp for months on end.

"Uh, Princess?" Malon's voice finally snapped her out of her daydreaming, and she blinked uncertainly. "Have you decided?"

"Um..." She paused for a moment, trying to recall of the girl's distant options. "I guess the stables would be fine."

"Sounds perfect," Malon smiled happily. "The stables are my favorite. Right this way, Princess."

"Please, call me Zelda," the princess swallowed. The girl giggled, as if Zelda had just told her a funny joke.

"All right, Zelda," she repeated. "We're going to be spending a lot of time together. I hope we become good friends."

"Likewise." Zelda was still as distracted as ever, even as they walked into the stables, and even when Malon grinned encouragingly and placed a broom in her hand.

"I usually start in the back," she sighed helpfully. "It's dirtier over there anyway."

"Oh," Zelda blinked. _Wonderful. I can't wait to begin. _

She followed Malon distractedly, taking slow and reluctant steps while her brain concentrated on, in her opinion, more pressing matters than the cleaning of the stables. She vaguely heard Malon speaking to her, but frankly, she wasn't really listening. Apparently, though, her eyes had been wandering, for Malon stopped and looked at her for a few moments.

"You like the horses?" Zelda finally processed her question and nodded detachedly.

"They're beautiful," she replied with a smile.

"Suki over here is my favorite," Malon mused, and then walked to one of the stables. A white, dappled horse stuck her head over the door and comfortably let Malon pet her. "She's Ashei's horse."

"Ashei?" Zelda tilted her head at the unfamiliar name as she idly brushed her broom on the floor. "Is she another Loyalist?"

"Yup. But she's not here right now because she's doing a little bit of research at Snowpeak," Malon explained. "And Suki would _not_ be comfortable in that kind of weather."

"Of course not," Zelda agreed, and her eyes meandered aimlessly through the room.

"Have you been in here before? Because if not, I can introduce you to all of the horses," Malon chuckled, scratching the back of Suki's twitching ears.

"I've been in here once before," Zelda replied, and instantly she recalled her first, awkward meeting with Link. She found herself searching for his horse. "And I met one of the horses...Epona, I think her name was?"

Malon's eyes widened, and her jaw dropped. Zelda was so distracted that day that she did not even notice the redhead's unusual reaction.

"You mean _Link's _horse?" she gaped. The princess nodded. "How did she even let you get close to her?"

"What do you mean?" Zelda's words were slow and drawn out. "She was very friendly." Then, Malon burst into laughter. The princess simply watched, baffled as this girl clutched her stomach and doubled over in laughter.

"Zelda! She's the meanest horse in the camp!" she gasped in between bursts of giggles. Zelda was taken aback at this comment, and shook her head. "She's injured at least ten Loyalists before."

"But she was lovely to me," Zelda shrugged innocently. "A-and to Link."

"Well of course she loves Link," Malon wiped her tears as she settled down. "He's the only one who can approach her. I mean she's become accustomed to me because I'm here so much, but she still doesn't like me. I don't know how you managed to approach her."

There was silence for a few moments, and then Malon smiled.

"Show me."

"What?"

"Her stall is right over there." Malon pointed. "I want you to show me."

Obliging, Zelda handed Malon her broom and began making her way to Epona's stall. As if sensing a force getting nearer, the majestic mare stuck her head out of the stall and bobbed it while she whinnied loudly. The shrill sound made Zelda cringe momentarily, but she continued advancing. She made eye contact with the horse, whose warm brown eyes blinked calmly. Zelda couldn't help but smile as she stepped closer, reaching out her hand. For a moment, there was hesitation in Epona's movements, and she was afraid that she might bite her. But the horse simply brought her muzzle to Zelda's palm and sniffed it. Then, recognizing the touch of Zelda's smooth fingers, the horse neighed approvingly. The princess understood and stepped forward, running her fingers along the horse's soft nose and ears.

"Well I'll be," Malon breathed. "How did you do that?"

Zelda shrugged, turning to Malon with a smile.

"I don't know," she replied. "Actually, she's the one that approached me the first time. I just did what I thought was natural..."

"Well, _natural_ is the only word I can use to describe this," she chuckled. "Nobody's been able to do that ever since Link arrived here with her."

"Really?" A strange sense of pride rushed through the princess as she gazed at the calm and seemingly friendly horse. "She must've been through a lot."

"That's what Link always says."

Zelda stepped away, reaching out to take her broom. Her thoughts were whirring more than ever now.

"We should get started."

"Of course, Your Highn—I mean, Zelda."

* * *

"Dinner!" In the distance, Link and Sheik heard Malon's voice and the ringing of her bell. They had been in the middle of a training session.

"Finally!" Sheik lowered his arms and slouched over, as if he had been working harder than ever. "I'm starving."

Link lowered his fists, as well, and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his sleeve. As always during hand-to-hand combat, Sheik had been beating him quite miserably. Though it was embarrassing, Link put up with it because it was good practice.

"You're always starving," he accused with a smirk. Sheik furrowed his brow, putting his hands on his hips.

"And what's wrong with that? My metabolism can afford a bit of fat."

Smiling, the two of them made their way to the middle of the camp, where Malon's delicious dinners were waiting for them. Rather than the usual braid, Sheik's hair was pulled back into a long and low ponytail, which was now falling apart from the fighting. Link's hair, of course, was completely awry atop his scalp, and his clothes were ragged and dirty from the amount of times he'd fallen.

"The princess started working today," Sheik said as they stood in line for dinner. "I wonder how she's doing."

"I'm sure she's fine."

"Hey, I heard some rumors..." Sheik nudged Link playfully, raising his eyebrows. "I heard some rumors that Epona actually likes her."

"Um." Link became uneasy, and scratched the nape of his neck nonchalantly.

"It's true?" he gasped. "Wow, this girl really is something special."

"M-maybe she just smelled nice."

"Oh, come on," Sheik rolled his eyes. "I smell nice, but Epona tries to bit my fingers off every time I get even a little bit close."

"You don't really smell that nice..."

"The point is," Sheik sighed. "There's something about that girl. Everybody else here seems to notice but you."

Link looked away, trying to ignore the fact that Sheik was absolutely right (and the fact that he was currently sniffing himself). It was, frankly, shocking that Epona had taken such a liking to her. Still, Link refused to divulge anything about what happened last night; as far as he knew, Zelda had kept it a secret as well. He wasn't sure if he really wanted their awkward exchange to be known throughout the camp.

"Link," Sheik lowered his voice to a hushed whisper, and suddenly became serious. "Do you think that I'm an idiot? I know why you're doing this. Everybody does...well, except for the princess."

"Sheik, drop it."

"No, Link." Sheik looked him straight in the eye. "_You_ drop _her._"

Sheik didn't have to specify who 'her' was. And as much as he didn't want to admit it, at that moment, Link mentally came to terms with what was happening.

He didn't want to get close to the princess because he still wasn't over Damita.

And he was afraid that if he got close to the princess, he would just be hurt again...

No, that wasn't it.

He was afraid that if he got close to the princess, he would betray Damita.

That was it.

* * *

**This chapter had more emotion and mental turmoil than action...but I hope it wasn't boring. It's building, I promise! And something special is going to happen next chapter that I'm sure will surprise you all haha. This time I actually have an IDEA, so I'll update more quickly...hopefully. Anyway, review, tell me what you guys thought, I appreciate every person who reads this! Thanks! **


	20. Two Swords

**See? I told you I would update more quickly this time. Annnyywaayy, here is chapter nineteen. It's a more humorous chapter, which is a good refresher from all of the drama that has happened...at least, that's what I think :P It's kind of long, but that's only because a lot of stuff goes on, haha. Thank you everybody who has reviewed and/or read this story, it really means a lot to me! Enjoy :)**

* * *

Chapter Nineteen: Two Swords

Damita was having trouble overcoming this emotional turmoil writhing inside of her. She sat in the sand in front of her tent, her legs crossed and her hands clutching her stomach, as if she were in pain. There actually was no physical pain other than the remaining sting in her back; she merely felt nauseous thinking about what had happened in the desert. The only other time she had ever contemplated her decision to become a Rebel was when she'd first arrived here at camp. It had made her sick, and it was doing the same now.

_What am I fighting for? What are the Loyalists fighting for?_

She couldn't even answer her own questions any more. Her hands had been so drenched in blood and her eyes had seen so much death over the past three years that she had forgotten why she'd sacrificed everything in the first place. No matter how hard she racked her brain, she simply could not figure out why she was killing people. She found herself wondering if Master ever felt the same way...she doubted it.

"Damita." She looked up and saw Telma's boots in front of her. She didn't look up. "Master wants to see you."

"What now?" she mumbled, standing up achingly. Her back was sore, and the rest of her body felt numb, as if the only functioning muscle was her brain.

"Try not to make him angry this time," Telma warned. "For all of our sakes."

Without a single trace of her usual mischievous smile, Damita walked past Telma and towards Master's tent. With each step her chin lifted a little bit higher and her back straightened a little bit more. She was ready to face him, and she would be ready to dodge every punch he threw at her. What he'd done was enough; she wasn't about to endure more.

"Damita. Please, come in."

Silently, she let the black flap of the tent close behind her, leaving her drenched in shadows. Master was standing in the light this time, glaring down at her with his hands clasped behind his back. The expression on his face was smug, and Damita had to restrain from smacking that grin right off of his thick lips.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Yes," she hissed, "no thanks to you."

"Come now, I don't want you take it personally," he clicked his tongue. "I only did what I had to do."

Damita didn't reply, but she narrowed her eyes defensively. Master seemed to find this amusing, and chuckled gruffly.

"General, every Rebel must learn to endure suffering." She was taken aback at this comment, and furrowed her brow skeptically.

"...General?"

"Well, yes. Did you think I was going to strip you of your title? No, that would be foolish. I only meant to teach you a lesson, dear." His grin broadened. "As I was saying, suffering is a part of the Rebel life, specifically yours. You should know this by now."

"I suppose you're right," Damita admitted. Memories and flashbacks of her first months here rushed back, and she winced painstakingly.

"Your strength proved to me that you are worthy of your title. Now, I called you in here because I have another mission for you."

"...Master, I—"

"You may be tired, and injured. But that does not matter. This task must be completed as soon as possible." Master began pacing, and Damita caught a glimpse of a small piece of parchment crumbled in his fist. "And you're the only one who can do it, my beautiful little assassin."

Damita paused, eyeing him incredulously. He continued pacing, watching and waiting for her response. Instinctively, her hand went to her back, where she could feel the bandages wrapped around the skin, seeping with blood. And then she remembered what Link had said to her in the desert...and then she remembered why she was in Master's tent: to prove herself. Yes, she would complete the mission. Redemption was a necessity.

"Who must die?"

"Here is a sketch." Master stopped, and handed her the parchment. Regaining her regal and authoritative atmosphere, Damita took the paper with both hands and unrolled it. She had trouble suppressing her surprise, though, when she saw the familiar face.

"What is this man's name?" she inquired. It was the man with whom she had danced the night of the Twilight Ball.

"Shad."

"Shad..."

"I want you to infiltrate the Loyalist camp and kill him. Don't let anybody see you, and return immediately."

"Why is he such a threat? I've never heard of him before." Damita examined the picture more closely; there was no doubt about it. This was the same man who had unintentionally helped her plan the invasion. He had the same round glasses and soft smile.

"He was a spy for the Loyalists in the castle," Master explained. "He knows too much, and he's the most intelligent Loyalist there is."

"Sir," Damita interrupted, but she couldn't help it. "Link is the most intelligent."

If looks could kill, Damita would've dropped on the spot.

"Kill Shad. Don't worry about Link..." The following pause gave Damita chills. "For now. You leave at sundown."

* * *

Zelda followed Sheik, slightly frightened about where exactly he was leading her. His braid swished back and forth as he walked, each step bouncier than the last. He had waken her up that morning, given her a strange outfit of clothes, and told her to follow him. They were walking among the tents, teeming with Loyalists, and the princess was slightly embarrassed in her long brown britches and baggy white tunic. They were, indubitably, the clothes of a man. Sheik seemed in an enthusiastic mood, waving and smiling at each camper they passed. Zelda could only follow closely behind, eyeing her surroundings with droopy eyelids.

"All right," Sheik smiled, stopping so abruptly that Zelda bumped into him. "Here we are!"

They were standing in the middle of the training grounds, but unlike usual, it was completely empty. Zelda furrowed her brow and looked around, unsure whether she should question Sheik or not. On one side, one single target was set up, and beside it laid a bow and a quiver of arrows. On another side, an array of dummies stood motionless, and various weapons were in the dirt beneath them: swords, staffs, spears, and various other items that Zelda could not recognize.

"Sheik? What are we doing here?" the princess finally inquired. There was an uncomfortable churning in her stomach.

"Well, princess," he began, putting his elbow on her shoulder. "Link and I decided that we need to train you."

"T-train me?"

"Yeah! You're a refugee princess. You're gonna need to know how to fight, right?" He raised his eyebrows, looking down at the wide-eyed girl. "But before we train you, we need to know what kind of weapon you're going to use."

Zelda looked around the training grounds again and understood the set up.

"Link should be here soon to oversee this."

"L-Link's going to be here?"

"Well, duh! He's the best warrior in camp; I don't know a single weapon that he can't use," Sheik winked. "I've even seen him throwing around a chain mace."

The princess was not a very aggressive person; she inevitably took after her ancestors. Never once in her twenty-one years of life did she imagine herself having to fight, and as she looked down at her hands, they immediately seemed unsuited to hold a weapon. The worst part was that Zelda wasn't sure if she could handle fighting; she'd never even killed a fly before, let alone a person. Whether she knew how to fight or not, she knew deep down that applying those future battle skills would not turn out well.

"Ah, there's our man." Zelda followed Sheik's gaze and saw Link strutting towards them, his face completely blank. As he approached, he bowed his head appropriately and, for the first time since Zelda had met him, made eye contact and smiled. Beside her, Sheik rolled his eyes with a mischievous smirk.

"Should we get started?" he asked. Link nodded, his face completely blank once more. Together, the three of them made their way over to the dummies. "We'll start with the easiest: the sword."

_The easiest?_ Zelda thought in horror as Sheik lifted up the long, shining blade. _I wonder what the hardest is..._

"All you have to do is hold this by the hilt and swing it at the dummy." Sheik handed her the sword, but she did not take it. She was still hesitant. Wordlessly, Link stepped up behind her and did something she was not expecting at all. He put his hands over hers, lifted them, and put them around the hilt of the sword. He kept his grasp as Sheik cautiously let go. Zelda hoped that he could not notice the bright red complexion in her face. Link's hands over hers were callused, but warm and experienced around the sword. She felt somehow protected with his arms around her, helping her to hold the sword.

"All right, lover boy," Sheik scoffed. "She can't really use the sword unless you _let go_."

Clearing his throat, Link obediently lifted his hands, slowly but steadily. As soon as their contact was broken, Zelda felt all warmth surrounding her leave. And almost at the exact same moment, the weight of the sword became too much for her arms, and the tip of the blade fell into the grass...right in between Sheik's feet.

"Geez!" He reflexively jumped back, leaping nearly two feet in the air. Zelda gasped, keeping her fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt as she attempted to lift the sword once more. "Okay...maybe the sword isn't your weapon."

Zelda sighed in exasperation, her face red from the effort and embarrassment of trying to lift it. Sheik, now trying to suppress his laughter, reached down and took the sword from her. Relieved, Zelda straightened her back and rubbed her aching wrists. Link walked around her to stand beside Sheik, and she could see the amused smile on his lips. It was not a teasing gesture...at least, she hoped it wasn't.

"Let's try the spear. Surely, you can handle the spear. It's lighter, but needs more strategy to use," Sheik suggested. Link, who still had not said a word, grabbed the long wooden shaft of the spear from the grass and held it out to the princess. Still a little bit dazed from the sword, she grabbed it, trying not to meet Link's deep blue eyes. Thankfully, it was much lighter than the sword, and she could hold it easily.

"When I say go, hit the dummy," Sheik explained. Then he looked at Link and whispered, "We might wanna take a few steps back..."

Zelda stared at the dummy, blowing slightly in the breeze. It gazed back at her spookily with those small black eyes and crudely stitched mouth. She tried to imagine that it was a large and frightening monster, trying to attack her.

"Go!"

With a grunt, Zelda thrust the spear with as much force as she could, bracing herself for the tip's contact with the stuffed cloth of the dummy.

"Uh..." Sheik cleared his throat.

The contact never came. When Zelda opened her eyes, she saw that she had completely missed the dummy. Her spear had veered off almost a foot to the right, and the dummy was left unscathed.

"Well, good effort..." Sheik smiled reassuringly. She could see him getting a little bit concerned, and frowned at the spear.

"Are there any other weapons?" she asked.

"Try the staff." Sheik took the spear, scrunching up his nose as if it smelled bad. Link, who Zelda could tell was trying to hide his amused expression, handed her the long staff. Surprisingly enough, it was thicker and heavier than the spear. There was no sharp metal tip, simply the strong wood polished finely. "Whenever you're ready, have at Mr. Dummy."

Zelda kept her eyes open this time, and concentrated all of her focus on the dummy's head.

"If you do it properly, the head should fly—"

Sheik was interrupted by Zelda's small yelp as she swung the staff. It hit dead on with a satisfying thud, and Zelda smiled inconspicuously to herself...until she saw that the head did _not_ fly off.

"Try it again," Sheik encouraged, ignoring Link's expression. Zelda did try again, with the same result. "Okkaaayyy, not the staff, then."

The princess let the staff drop to the ground in disappointment, and stared at it with a disdainful expression. Not only was she afraid to fight, but she also could not even handle a weapon. Even using the simplest weapon, the staff, was a difficult task for her.

_It's just a stick, and I can't even use it properly._

"I think that was the last one..." Sheik said, evidently dismayed. "Hey, maybe if we get a lighter sword, we could—"

"You forgot the bow and arrow," Zelda pointed out, though her tone was quite disillusioned. "Though I don't think it will be of much assistance."

"Well, I mean, I guess we could try..." Sheik shrugged, and then began leading the threesome to the target on the other side of the field. Zelda and Link walked side by side, and when she glanced at him discreetly, she saw that the smile had been wiped clean off of his face, as if he were afraid to show happiness. She licked her lips and looked down at her feet.

"Do you want me to nock an arrow for you?" Sheik raised his eyebrows.

When Zelda opened her mouth to say yes, she was surprised.

"No, I can do it."

"Y-you can? Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

Zelda was most definitely not sure, but for some reason, she found herself saying that she was. With a confused expression, Sheik let her take the bow and arrow from his hands. She lined up her feet with the target, making sure she was standing where she should've been, though it was yards away from the target. The reality of it was that she wasn't exactly sure where she should've been; her feet moved instinctively. Worriedly, Link and Sheik both stood behind her, watching with intent gazes. For a few moments she was still, getting used to the feel of the bow and arrow in her hands.

"Do you need help?" Sheik inched forward, but Zelda brushed him off.

"No, I'm fine," she insisted. He raised his hands in surrender and backed away. Link, with narrowed eyes, stayed right where he was.

When Zelda nocked the arrow, she wasn't sure how she did it. Her fingers moved slowly but with a knowledge she didn't know existed, and in less than a minute, the arrow was successfully placed along the string of the bow.

"...How did you...?" Sheik's jaw dropped. Zelda stared at her handiwork with a mesmerized look. Instead of answering, she lifted the bow and began to pull the string back. It was heavy and provided a relatively strong amount of resistance; somehow, she was able to bring it back all the way to her ear.

The princess ignored the feel of Sheik and Link's eyes on her back as she closed her left eye and began to aim. She turned her body at an angle, moving the bow minimally and keeping the target in range. Then, with satisfaction pulsing through her, she let go of the string, listening to the whistle the arrow created.

"In the name of Din almighty..." Sheik breathed.

The arrow had hit right in the middle of the target. Zelda smiled broadly, lowering the bow with arms quivering in triumph.

"Where did you learn to shoot like that?" he inquired. The princess shrugged, still entranced by her own work.

"I...I didn't."

Link walked up to the target and plucked the arrow from its embedded position, examining it pensively. Then, he walked up to the princess and held out the arrow. He opened his mouth and, for the first time that day, said something to her.

"Try again."

Zelda did exactly what she had done before. She nocked the arrow, planted her feet, pulled back the string, aimed, and let the feathered weapon fly. Just as the first time, the arrow hit the target exactly in its center. She glanced over at the Loyalist leader, who was looking at the target with a soft smile and glistening eyes. Then she glanced at Sheik, whose jaw had dropped and whose eyes had grown to be the size of walnuts.

"Well," he gasped. "I guess we found your weapon."

* * *

That night, lying in bed, Link had another dream of Damita. It wasn't really a dream. It was a memory, replaying in his head. The day's events had spurred yet another flashback, but even in his sleep, he was smiling like a small child...

* * *

...Damita and Link were facing the dummy, both with determined and hardened faces.

"Try the staff first," Link suggested, picking it up for her. "Lots of people use the staff."

"No way! I don't want a dumb old stick," Damita pretentiously scoffed, folding her arms. She stuck her tongue out at the bland weapon Link was holding out to her. The young, slightly offended sixteen year-old furrowed his brow.

"C'mon, Damita. It's not _that_ boring."

"Yes it is. I want to try to the sword."

"You can't try the sword yet!" Link argued, taking a step closer as his nostrils flared. Damita raised her eyebrows and stuck her nose up, planting her feet to emphasize her defiance.

"What are you gonna do, tell Rusl on me, pipsqueak?" she demanded.

"I've been here longer than you have," he narrowed his eyes. "And stop calling me that."

"Would you rather I call you Linkipoo?" she snickered.

"Stop it!"

"I want the sword." With that, Damita pushed past the fuming young boy toward the sword that lay in the grass. He could only watch in dismay, tightening his grip on the staff. The other young campers, who were watching in awe, laughed and whispered about the two clashing personalities. They spoke of how the two would inevitably fall in love. They were still unsure of how long it would take; both of them wanted to be the boss. So for now, their bickering would continue.

"You don't even know how to use it," he challenged. The crowd gasped, and then fell silent as Damita turned to look at him with eyes as steely as the sword in her hand.

"Yes I do. I have experience with weaponry, Linkipoo. Just watch me."

Before Link could respond, Damita swung the sword at the dummy, slicing it completely in half. Then, before the top half could hit the ground, she swung at it again. Two pieces of the remains of the dummy sat at her feet, and she put her hands on her hips triumphantly.

"You know what? I bet I could even beat you," she said. Link clenched his teeth and threw the staff to the ground.

"I bet you couldn't." Accepting this challenge, he drew his own blue-hilted sword and crouched forward.

"Fine," she snickered. "You're on, pipsqueak."

They began circling each other, giving nasty looks with their menacingly narrowed eyes. The other children surrounded them excitedly, nearly bouncing at this change in pace. It had been a while since they'd seen a real battle like this, even if it was a small one.

Link knew that Damita would be the first to strike. When she ran at him with her sword raised and her battle cry echoing through the air, he easily ducked to the side, and her sword hit the ground with a thud. When she whirled around on him and swung again, Link lifted his sword to block, and the spectators cringed at the sound of metal against metal. Damita, left slightly in a daze, could not truly defend herself properly when Link began advancing. He swung his sword expertly and with a grace incomparable, and she could only keep her sword raised to block. Her smile slowly faded. Over and over again Link swung, and sparks flew all around them.

"Ah!" With one last majestic swing, he knocked the sword right out of her hands. The tip became embedded in the ground as Link stepped forward, grabbed her arm, and twirled her around. Her back was now against his chest, and his sword was raised to her neck dangerously. He kept her arm wrenched behind her back, and Damita was trapped.

"You lose," he whispered in her ear, ignoring the drops of sweat rushing down his cheeks.

"Whatever." Damita grinned, and there was suddenly a beautifully gentle twinkle in her eyes. Her cheeks were bright red, and she leaned backwards against him more. Flustered, Link blinked and stumbled back. Then, she winked. "I just need two swords."

That was the first time that Link ever had the urge to kiss her...

* * *

...Link sat up in bed, still smiling from the remains of his dream. Habitually, his eyes moved to his sword in the corner, light reflecting dramatically off of its blade. He could now remember that day as if it had just happened. And yesterday, during Zelda's first training session, something incredible had occurred.

He had seen the same gentle twinkle in her eyes that he'd seen in Damita's five years ago.

* * *

**Yup, a pretty eventful chapter! Again, don't forget to review! Thanks guys, I will update soon :) **


	21. Tutor

**Whoa, for the first time in ages, I'm actually happy with the chapter! So that being said, I hope you guys enjoy it!  
**

**Before I forget...**

**THANKS GUYS, to everybody who is reading, has reviewed, or has faved this story or any others that I have written. A special thank you to LoneMouse444, my unofficial editor and crazy lil' sis. Check out her writing when you get the chance! But I really do appreciate every fave and every review that I receive! Thank you SOSOSOOSS MUCH FOR KEEPING ME GOING :) Now, enjoy!  
**

* * *

Chapter Twenty: Tutor

Breaking into the Loyalist camp alone and armed with only her slyness and her two swords, Damita knew that it would be a difficult task; even more difficult than breaking into the castle, perhaps. It was buried deep in the Faron Woods, a deserted place for more than one hundred years and dense with the desolate trees in which Link had first found her. Around every corner and stationed by the strategic and experienced Link were skilled Loyalist guards, who would actually give Damita quite a good fight. Of course, she could defeat one; but if she were ever surrounded, it would be over. This time, she would have to pay more attention to whether the guards would be able to see her. And once she entered the camp, finding Shad and killing him without being seen would be one of the most challenging missions of her three years as a Rebel. The most important part, by far, was to avoid Link at all costs. At one glance, Damita knew that she would fall apart.

Simply thinking of her return to the Loyalist camp made her stomach queasy. She had never once returned since she was taken away in the first place, and as she approached the entrance of the Faron Woods, the churnings of nostalgia erupted inside of her. When she closed her eyes, she saw so many memories flash in her mind, and she involuntarily smiled like a small child. But when she opened them, the smile disappeared, and she was once again standing beneath the shadow of the night, slightly hesitant in entering the forest. Damita took out the small paper that Master had given her, and examined Shad's face more closely. She suddenly felt as if she were back at the ball, dancing with him. He had seemed harmless, yet according to her master, his death was necessary.

_Shad must die?_ She stared at the paper, and felt a slight pang of sadness. _If it means redemption, then so be it._

An early winter breeze whistled through the air eerily.

Finally, Damita stepped into the forest, drawing her swords. It was time for her mission to begin and for her dignity to be returned.

* * *

Zelda could not sleep, even though she was exhausted. The day had been full of cleaning, cooking, and training, and her entire body was aching. She was still at a loss as to how she was supposed to do this every day until her return to the castle.

"_Eh, don't worry about it! In a couple of weeks, you're going to be a lot stronger, and your body will become accustomed to the training. How do you think I'm this sexy, huh?"_

Sheik had attempted to console her when she had divulged to him her worries, but it did nothing more than provoke a friendly laugh. Zelda was still afraid that her body was going to shut down after only a couple of days; she had never worked a day in her life, and now she was expected to do it every single day. In fact, the harmful effects were more mental than physical. She prayed that Sheik was right, and she prayed that this would help her in the future.

"_This way, if somebody ever tries to kill you, you'll be able to defend yourself. After all, you _are_ the princess."_

She closed her eyes, and tried to sleep. Of course, she was unable to, and her eyes drifted to her new bow and quiver of arrows sitting on her nightstand. She didn't know if her odd talent with archery was a gift...or a curse.

"_With your aim, you could kill somebody from a mile away!"_

_ I suppose I could_... she thought in disillusionment. _I just don't know if I would._

Her mind was made up, and she stood up to take another one of her nightly strolls. Walking through the camp with nobody else around helped to calm her down; it reminded her of her late and nostalgic excursions at the castle. She grabbed a thick shawl she had been given that day, wrapped it around her bare shoulders, and walked out of her tent and into the chilly night. She could feel the approaching winter hanging in the air, and found herself smiling. She simply walked, with no specific destination in mind. Everybody was asleep. The only thing filling the silence was the lullaby of the nature of the night, and the quiet flowing of the shallow stream.

Zelda had not even noticed how near she'd gotten to Link's tent. One moment, she was staring off distractedly into the distance; the next moment, she was almost standing right in front of the entrance to his abode. She halted in her tracks, gazing at tent with a skeptical expression. He had barely interacted with her ever since her arrival, and still, she could not help but be intrigued by his mysterious nature. She could sense the pain stirring uncomfortably inside of him, and she wanted to delve into him and uncover his secrets. For unknown reasons, Zelda wanted to be the one to crack his shell.

There was a small light coming from inside of his tent. Furrowing her brow, Zelda ventured to take a step closer. Then she concentrated all of her focus on the entrance of the tent, and almost instantly, she heard quiet whispering. Without truly knowing who was whispering or why, she felt a pang of jealousy and inched closer. The whispering continued, and the orange light behind the tent flap flickered. Regardless of the small warning voice inside of her head, her curiosity got the best of her, and she opened the flap to peek inside. Her stomach was doing flips.

Link was the only one inside of his tent. He was sitting, cross-legged on the floor, facing the entrance. At first, Zelda was afraid that he would see her...but then she realized that he was staring down into his lap. Sitting, spread across his legs, was a newspaper. Candles surrounded him, providing a golden glow shining upon the words on the page. His chiseled face was scrunched up in concentration, and his lips moved slowly as he whispered to himself. He showed no indication of looking up at any time, so Zelda felt relatively safe peeking in on him.

_What is he doing...? _

Link was starting to look frustrated, and he stopped whispering. He narrowed his eyes and lifted the newspaper closer to his face. For a few moments, his face was concealed; then, with an exasperated groan, he tossed the newspaper aside and buried his head in his hands, fiddling with his thick sandy hair. Zelda felt her heart pound in sympathy, and she bit her lower lip. This was exactly the kind of thing she had been wondering about only a few minutes ago. And then she couldn't help herself.

"Ahem...Link?" She took a step forward, flinching slightly as he snapped his head up. There was a wild and surprised look on his face. He moved to stand, but Zelda lifted her hand with an understanding smile. "Please, stay where you are."

"Princess, what are you doing up so late?" She could tell that he was trying to hide his irritation with her unexpected interruption, and instantaneously felt guilty.

"I'm sorry," she admitted, looking down at her twiddling fingers. "It's just that I couldn't sleep, and then I heard you whispering to yourself. Is something wrong...?"

Link simply shook his head, though his eyes wandered toward the newspaper. Still smiling, Zelda bent down and picked it up. It was an old newspaper, the one describing Lord Gulliver's murder on the front page. Various phrases were underlined and circled, and incomprehensible words were scribbled in the margins.

"Why are you reading this?" Zelda asked. The expression on Link's face made her feel incomparable sympathy for him, and without realizing what she was doing, she sat down in front of him. He blinked and looked away, confused about how to react to the princess's advances. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing," he mumbled. He would not look at the newspaper or into Zelda's warm eyes. They both looked into the dim flames of the candles, and the crinkling of the paper in Zelda's fingers kept the quiet away.

"Link, do you have any books?" Her question was unexpected even to her, but it had been on her mind since her arrival. Link looked at her as if she were crazy, and then slowly shook his head.

"I don't read..."

"Well I'm sure you have _some_ books in this forsaken place," she smiled. Link's face remained as cold as stone. "Whether you like to read or not. Hm, perhaps Shad has some..."

"What I mean to say, Princess, is that I _can't_ read." He looked down as she stared at him with wide eyes. That had not been the response she was expecting. Link at that moment reminded her of a little boy, ashamed and reluctant as he admitted his secret.

"Y-you can't read?"

He paused.

"Or write," he finally added. His confession was followed by an awkward and tense silence, and Zelda understood what she'd seen outside of his tent. His cheeks were now red and flustered in embarrassment as the princess tugged idly at the pages of the newspaper.

"You never learned?"

"No. It was never necessary."

"Then why do you want to learn now? It's still not really necessary..."

"No," he agreed. But when he looked up there was a fire in his eyes. "But I can't take it anymore. I have to learn. It's humiliating, being illiterate."

At that moment, Zelda saw a glimpse of the true leader she had been expecting to find in him. She saw the determination and honor etched in his features, and her heart softened when she looked into his fierce eyes. It was then that Zelda realized what Sheik said was right: there was a truly great person beneath the cold shell.

"Well," she began, clearing her throat, "you can't learn how to read alone. It's almost impossible."

Link didn't reply. He just stared at her, completely unreadable.

"If you want, I can teach you. I may not be very adept with fighting, but I'm good with books."

He swallowed, and then shook his head. "No, I couldn't ask you to do that for me, Princess. You have enough on your plate as it is."

"Actually, it could be quite fun," she reassured. Zelda wanted Link to finally see the kind of person that she really was, rather than the princess he judged her to be. She wanted to get close to him, and see what kind of person _he_ really was. "It will give me some repose after these long days, especially in the winter." She flashed him the warmest smile she could muster.

"Princess Zelda." It was the first name he had said her name. It sounded like music rolling off of his tongue in that silky voice of his. "Thank you."

"Great! We can start right now," she said.

He had agreed. Link was going to let Zelda teach him; he was going to let Zelda into his world. She smiled, stroking the paper distractedly. And when he smiled back, she knew that she was throwing herself into something bigger than simply reading lessons.

* * *

Link was so confused it made his head hurt. He watched the princess leave his tent with a strange sense of satisfaction inside of him. At the same time, he was reluctant to allow this odd session of tutoring to commence. It was that constant fear and hesitance once again resurfacing, warning him against getting close to Zelda. And still, though he had told himself numerous times in the past two minutes to refuse her offer, he couldn't help but accept. He wanted to know how to read; he wanted to be able to be confident. But he was concerned with the side effects that were sure to be a thorn in his side. The princess was charming, beautiful, and something about her made him apprehensive. She was too entrancing. And he hadn't even meant to tell her his secret.

"_You're a warrior. You don't need to learn how to read, and we don't have time to teach you. If the day comes where you need to know how, then you'll learn, Link."_

Those had been Rusl's words when Link had inquired about his schooling as a young boy. The old feelings of dejection and humiliation rushed back, and he blinked away the memory hastily. His literacy still was not a necessity. But Sheik could read, Shad could certainly read, even Malon could read. And none of them knew that he could neither read nor write. He had managed to keep it a secret long enough, and he was sick of it. Link wanted to be able to pick up a newspaper and read it without difficulty, or sit down and actually write a letter rather than dictate one. And the princess was his key to reaching that point.

_Just keep your distance. If you can concentrate solely on the lessons, then you'll have nothing to worry about_, he tried to convince himself. But he wasn't fooling anybody. There was no way he would be able to continue avoiding the princess...

...Or avoiding the callings of his heart.

* * *

Sheik usually slept clear through breakfast. He was not the most...punctual warrior at camp, and his growling stomach always reprimanded him for it in the afternoon. Still, he was a light sleeper. He had simply become accustomed to the sounds and clamor of the morning, and had trained himself to sleep through it. So that night, while the sun still hid beneath the branches of the forest, an unfamiliar sound caused him to jolt up in bed. Blinking drowsily, he instinctively pulled his thick blond strands into a ponytail and threw the blanket to the ground. His pointed ears twitched, and in the distance, he could hear the faint rustling of leaves. He dressed quickly, yawning periodically and simultaneously attempting to shake off the sleep still burdening his bones. When he stepped out of the tent, the entire camp was still empty. Even Link's tent was dark; it was too early even for his little training escapades.

_Who's making that noise...?_

His suspicions were beginning to grow, and his narrowed eyes remained focused on the forest. It was dark...completely and utterly dark...

_There's somebody here. I just can't see them. Or maybe I'm going crazy._ The sounds continued, and he scratched his head. They were surely coming from the forest, or at least near it. Being careful not to wake any other campers, he moved as quickly as possible to the bordering trees, peering around their trunks and keeping his guard up. His eyes were already accustomed to the darkness, and even with his keen sight, he could see nobody. The noises had stopped.

_Damn, I really hope I'm not crazy. I'm not that old. _

Sheik began making his way back toward the cluster of tents, but as soon as he turned his back, there was another quick rustle of leaves. He halted abruptly, inhaling deeply. Without warning, he whirled back around toward the spot where he'd heard the noise: right in between the trees. And once again, there was emptiness and silence.

_Whatever. I guess I should stop being so paranoid._

Simply thinking that felt odd, because Sheik was never paranoid. He was starting to doubt even his own instincts. That scared him more than anything. Trying to shrug off these rare emotions, he walked back to his own tent. He used all of his willpower to ignore that uncomfortable feeling inside of his stomach. It pestered him like an annoying bug, buzzing in his ear and giving him chills.

_Great. I interrupted a wonderful dream for nothing._

Just as he reached the entrance of his tent, he saw a dark figure flicker past out of the corner of his eye. He stood as still as a statue, without moving a single muscle. Sheik's suspicions had been confirmed; he wasn't alone out there. Slowly, he turned around, facing the spot where he could've sworn he saw a figure. He found himself face to face with Shad's tent.

_What's that dork doing up at this hour? Or maybe it's not him..._

Sheik still couldn't get that horrible feeling out of his pounding heart. Slightly hesitant, he inched toward Shad's tent, peeked inside, and then stepped inside of the darkness. He could see Shad's figure tucked beneath the blankets of his bed, the mass of his body rising and falling with his steady breathing. Sheik could see the shine of his glasses on the nightstand.

_So it's not Shad._

He didn't want to give himself away, but he didn't want to be worrying about what could've been another Loyalist prowling around the camp. So, deciding to take a risk, Sheik stuck his head out of the flap of the tent and cupped his hands around his mouth.

"Link? Hey, Link! Is that you?" he whispered urgently. "Linkipoo!" There was no response, and at that moment, Sheik knew that he had made a dire mistake.

_Calm down, Sheik, you're over thinking this. _

Trying to return the beat of his heart to a normal rate and steady his breathing, he began walking away from Shad's tent. But about halfway to his, he stopped to listen again. He could've sworn he heard a footstep behind him. And then he saw the flap of Shad's tent blow eerily...and there was no breeze.

Starting to get panicky, Sheik sprinted lightly back to the entrance. He knew that somebody else was there; at that point, he could practically feel the other person's presence. And Shad had not stirred at all in his bed. After only a few moments, Sheik saw the figure looming over Shad's tent ominously...

And then he saw the two swords. There was no time left for him to attack.

"Shad!" Sheik screamed. The attacker snapped its head toward him, unprepared for this interruption.

"Huh—wha?" The scholar sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes. Then, he turned his head and saw the intruder. "OH DEAR NAYRU!"

"Shad! _Move!_" Sheik cried as he jumped forward. The man scrambled, but too late.

The attacker swung her swords as he attempted to drop from the bed, and the menacing blades sliced his back mercilessly, and the bed became splattered with blood.

_Damn it! Shad!_

Screaming and writhing in pain, Shad was now helpless as he fell to the floor on the other side of his mat, caked in his own crimson blood.

Before the attacker had another chance to jump over the bed and finish the job, Sheik leaped in front of her and with a nimble kick of his leg, sent one of her swords flying to the ground.

"Nice to see you again, Sheik."

"What...are...you...doing...here?" His words were interrupted by his pants of rage. He could feel anger pulsing through his limbs, and the image of his friend's attack replayed over and over again in his head.

"Oh, you know," Damita smirked. "The usual."

Then she pounced.

* * *

**I hope you guys liked it! I'll have the other one up as soon as possible, but school has started, so hopefully that won't slow me down too much. Thanks again, to everybody!**


	22. Forgotten Promise

**I can't even express how relieved I am to finally have this dumb chapter finished. It took much to long to complete. But I think it came out all right! School continues to pose a problem. Oh well; I'll try my best to keep the chapters coming :) Please enjoy this chapter, I worked hard on it haha. **

* * *

Chapter Twenty-One: Forgotten Promise

"What are you doing here?" Sheik asked again as he ducked under the swing of her sword and hopped backwards.

"Private errands," she replied, a lust for blood in her eyes. She had not changed.

"Right." He straightened up and gave her his own little sarcastic smile. He forced himself to calm down and retain his cynical comportment and composure. "Important stuff, I'm sure."

He jabbed at her throat with clenched fingers, and when she avoided the attack, he did it again. Faster and faster his hands moved, and his face scrunched into an expression of pure ferocity. Damita helplessly parried, but her face became bruised and she was panting with the effort of evasion as she was pinned backwards against the bed. She could move no further.

"I had hoped for your sake, Damita, that you weren't still under the impression that you could defeat me," he whispered pretentiously. "It's just not happening."

He swung at her once more, but she was surprisingly ready for him this time. She ducked agilely and swung her leg, knocking his feet right out from under him. Before his back could even make contact with the ground, he planted his palms and catapulted himself back up...just in time for his face to meet Damita's fist. Sheik stumbled backwards, unprepared for the clever blow.

"I've got to admit, it's better than last time," he laughed, wiping the blood from his lip. "I bet Link will barge in here at any moment."

Damita lowered her guard for a split second, and her cat-like green eyes narrowed ominously. Then she ran her gloved finger along the blade of her sword, maintaining firm eye contact with Sheik. Of course, he knew her well enough to realize when she was masking her true emotions. The only sound was Shad's tormented moaning. In the back of his mind, Sheik knew that Shad needed immediate help; he hoped that Link truly would appear. He would have to...

"Let him." She jabbed horizontally, missing Sheik by a single hair. As he stepped to the side in an almost unnoticeable move, his elbow came down on her wrist, knocking the sword to the floor. She screamed, grabbing her left shoulder and doubling over. It was then that Sheik remembered it was the same shoulder he had nearly destroyed during her invasion on the castle.

"Sorry. Am I hurting you?"

"...No," she panted. When she glared up at him, the fire in her eyes was more ablaze than before. He could almost feel the heat. "Not at all."

Sheik knew that her next attack would be with her right arm. He blocked the punch easily, but what he wasn't expecting was the following kick with her left leg. The slender bone of her leg collided with his hip, and he sucked in a breath with clenched teeth. If anything, Damita had gotten stronger since their last meeting.

_Link...where are you?_

"Why are you here? What could you possibly want with Shad?" he demanded again. Damita, who was throwing periodic glances at the entrance of the tent, simply stared at him. They both knew that the commotion they were creating was bound to attract attention soon. It was only a matter of time before their little duo was interrupted.

"Sheik," she hissed. Then she looked around him with a raised eyebrow, toward the slowly growing stream of blood on the opposite side of the room. "I feel that actions speak louder than words."

Rather than responding with words, Sheik bared his teeth ferociously and leaped at her again. Damita stared at him evenly, preparing herself for the attack. But before Sheik could do anything, he heard his name called behind him.

"Sheik!" He halted abruptly, inches away from Damita, and whirled around. There, standing in the entrance of tent, was Link, sword in hand.

_Finally..._

Suddenly, Princess Zelda squeezed past him into the tent, and her wide eyes fell upon Shad's form on the floor. With a surprised scream, she ran to him. But Sheik was not paying attention to that. He had known that Link would show up...but he didn't know what the consequences would be. Glancing back at Damita, he saw her eyes fixed on Link's, and there was a tense silence between them. Sheik couldn't remember the last time the two of them had been in such close proximity with each other.

"Damita."

"...Link."

* * *

Link was almost unable to move. He stood for what seemed like an eternity, staring at the Rebel assassin with wide eyes and a racing heartbeat. Damita, still holding her shoulder, stared back at him with the expression of a statue. For a few moments, everything disappeared, and he was only aware of her presence. But Princess Zelda's screaming broke his trance.

"Shad needs help, _now!"_

As if he, too, had just realized where he was, Sheik rushed to Shad's side beside Princess Zelda. Link and Damita were left standing still in the tension of the darkness, still too far to touch but too close to ignore. Finally, Link spoke.

"What are you doing here?"

Damita opened her mouth to respond, but then closed her lips. It seemed as if she was even unsure of her own motives there. Link tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword with shaky fingers. He could see Damita's lips trembling, but she stood her ground with a straight back and her chin up.

"What do you want?" Each word felt like the merciless twisting of the thorn in his side. It felt strange, speaking to the girl he had once vowed to love forever, with the tone of an enemy. He still was not accustomed to the pain. Unable to resist, he took a step closer and began to lower his sword.

"Redemption," she replied coldly. At first, Link almost believed she was talking about redemption with him. But he knew better than that.

"Hey, Link, can we hurry this up?" Sheik pleaded urgently. Link narrowed his eyes but did not look away from Damita. She was sweating and bruised, but there was nothing that stole from her beauty. Her glory was slightly frightening, and Link attempted futilely to keep the walls around his heart fortified.

Without warning, Damita began screaming.

"Why don't you just kill me now?" she cried accusingly, as if a switch had been flicked on in her head. Link stumbled backwards, startled at her outburst. "Just get it over with already! Why do you hesitate so much? Just do it!"

He blinked, staring at her with his mouth slightly ajar. Link had never expected this from Damita; she seemed as if even she hadn't been expecting it. She was panting, and her face was red. He could see tears brimming in her green eyes.

"Kill me!" Her voice was unusually pleading. Link paused for a long time before replying.

"...I can't."

Damita sucked in a breath, letting the tears run down her cheeks. They were cold, dead tears.

"Kill me."

"No."

"Link!" Sheik interjected.

"No!"

"Please," she breathed. Her voice was now hushed, and the tears had disappeared. "Kill me."

"I won't break my promise."

His words seemed to take Damita by surprise, for she held her breath and stared at him with eyes as large as the moon.

Without another word, Damita picked up her swords. Then, with breakneck pace, ran straight past Link and out of the tent, disappearing into the night. Time seemed to stop when her shoulder brushed his, and he let out an exasperated sigh as chills covered his skin. He turned around slowly, not surprised to see that she was completely gone, as if she had evaporated into thin air.

Princess Zelda was panicking. It was her screaming that brought Link out of his trance, and with sudden urgency, he leaped to where Sheik and Zelda lay beside Shad. But he still couldn't get Damita's desperate screaming out of his head.

"Shad, you'll be all right, everything will be okay..." she panted, holding his pale and lifeless face in her lap. His eyelids fluttered, and his lips just barely moved with the fleeting words of delusion. He didn't react to her touch, or to her frantic and strained voice. The princess took no heed to the pool of blood in which she was kneeling. Link fell to his knees beside Sheik, taking a moment to examine the situation.

Shad's shirt had been torn off, and the soiled blankets on his bed had been made into makeshift bandages. They were now wrapped around his bleeding torso, completely drenched. Link had never seen somebody look so pale, and he felt his stomach grow queasy in a combination of terror and unsung memories. When he glanced at Sheik, trying to rid his mind of Damita, his brow was furrowed in a thoughtful and concerned expression.

"...How is he?" Link ventured to ask, trying to fill the silence. Shad's moans were almost as overwhelming as Link's recurring nostalgic thoughts.

"He's...alive," Sheik replied with a sigh. Link cringed as Zelda moved the sweaty strands of hair from his ghostly white cheeks.

"We should get him to the infirmary," Link offered, his voice trembling slightly. Zelda looked up at him, holding back tears in her wide and frantic eyes. Her expression pierced right into his heart, and for a moment, he completely forgot what had just happened with Damita.

As Sheik stood up and Link hesitantly followed, Zelda stayed on her knees, shaken and burying her face in her hands. She was trembling, and Link could not look at her for more than a few seconds without feeling the horrible pangs of longing and prohibition. He kept on wondering how he could be feeling this way, especially after what had just happened.

Link and Sheik lifted Shad gingerly from Zelda's lap and carried him out of the tent, walking out into the darkness of the early morning. Other Loyalists were beginning to peek their drowsy heads out of the tents, gawking at Link and Sheik as they slowly soaked in the situation.

"Oh, my gods! Is that Shad?"

"I heard screaming earlier, but I didn't know what I was!"

"Whoa, that's a lot of blood..."

The infirmary was the largest tent in the camp, without comparison. It was long and relatively wide, and inside the flap, rows of beds were lined up in neat order. There were a couple of other Loyalists, lying in bed with fevers or accidental injuries. In the bed nearest to the flap, they put Shad, still unconscious but evidently more comfortable.

"Sheik?" Link's voice was quiet, but the words were itching in his throat, clawing their way out. They sat on the bed beside Shad's, solemnly.

"Yeah?"

"I...I'm sorry."

Sheik sighed heavily, but then understandingly patted Link's shoulder.

"Don't apologize. I understand."

"Do you think I should've killed her?" Link used all of his strength to keep his voice from cracking. Each time he opened his mouth, he remembered Damita's pleads, and the crazy fire in her eyes. He had never seen her like that.

"No," Sheik answered. His words were slow and drawn out. "But I don't know what else there is we can do with her anymore."

"I shouldn't have let her go."

It was at that moment that Princess Zelda walked in, hugging herself and sniffling from the cold. Without even looking at the two men, she sat at Shad's bedside, watching him with sullen eyes and gaunt cheeks.

"Thank the gods he's all right," she said, to nobody in particular. A young girl, evidently the nurse, suddenly ran to the bedside from the other end of the tent, carrying bandages and unfamiliar liquids. The sight of her made Link's heart slow down just a bit, knowing that if anybody could handle this, she would be able to.

"What happened here?" the nurse asked, strangely calm. "I heard screaming, and the next thing I know, you're dragging Shad in here, half dead!"

"Can we explain later, after you help him?" Link asked detachedly.

"Sure." The young, pretty nurse forced Zelda off of the bed without a problem and then began her work.

"Thanks, Ilia." Link smiled dismally.

"No problem. That's what I'm here for." She grinned back at him, her eyes still droopy with the remains of sleep.

The princess sat beside Sheik, and let her head lean on his shoulder. She seemed devoid of all energy, and Sheik wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in closely. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting him affectionately stroke her hair in an act of comfort and kindness. Link looked at them with admiration, though he felt an odd sense of jealousy; for a few moments, he wanted to be in Sheik's position. He wanted to be the one holding the princes...

"Link, get some sleep. Sheik, you too." Ilia smiled, turning away from Shad after a couple of minutes. "Princess, you should sleep here as well."

"Thank you," Zelda replied, still keeping her eyes closed.

"Is he going to be okay?" Sheik nodded toward the bedridden scholar, who now seemed significantly more comfortable. Ilia nodded, wiping her bloody hands on a handkerchief.

"He lost a lot of blood, but yeah, he'll be fine. He just needs rest. And so do you guys," she emphasized once more. "Go to sleep. And I expect a full report tomorrow."

"The whole camp does, I'm sure," Link mumbled.

"Sleep well," Ilia grinned, comfortingly ruffling Link's hair as she walked back to her station at the end of the infirmary. Gently, Sheik stood up, and Zelda lifted her head from his shoulder with sluggishness. Then, as soon as the two of them had stood up, she buried herself beneath the blankets and turned her back to them.

"Good night, Link," Sheik whispered. Then, he looked into his best friend's eyes, and Link knew that he could see the terror inside of them. "Try not to think about her too much."

"I'll try," Link sighed. "Good night."

That night, Link had some of the worst nightmares that he had ever experienced. He was running; just running. It was through the forest, surrounded by trees spread out beneath the dark night sky. There was no moon, no stars...no light. And Link just kept running. There was excruciating pain in this dream, more so than he would ever experience in real life under such circumstances. His legs burned with each bounding step that he took, and his lungs flared as he breathed in and out abruptly. He felt as if his knees were going to give out, and as if there was a horrible fire blazing within his chest, threatening to burst through his flesh at any moment. There was a fear unlike anything he'd ever felt, and it kept him running through the darkness. Behind him, in the distance, an unseen woman laughed at him.

"You'll run forever, but you'll never get away," she cackled. "I'm everywhere."

And then he halted, suddenly surrounded by mirrors. In each mirror, he saw a reflection of himself, frightened and trembling and sweating. But there was somebody else in the reflection, and he didn't have to look twice to know who it was.

"You should've killed me when you had the chance, Link." She kissed his cheek, and stroked it lovingly. "When I get the chance...I _won't_ hesitate."

Then, drawing her swords, Damita slit his throat and left him on the floor of the forest, drowning in his own crimson blood.

* * *

**Yes, more random characters from random games :) I hope you guys liked it, PLEASE review and tell me what you really think of the story so far! I'm open to suggestions if anybody has any! Again, sorry for the great span of time in between updates. I'm not sure if that's going to change anytime soon... well, bye! Thanks everybody! :3**


	23. Beautiful

**Hello everybody! We have here another sentimental chapter, but not to fear! The chapter to come really does have some intensity to it. I promise :) I hope that this chapter and the one after it will help answer all of your questions. Because I promise you that though some aspects of the story seem frustrating or don't make any sense, it's all deliberate. Everything will make sense...eventually :P Anyways, thanks for sticking with me this far! I hope you enjoy this chapter :)**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Two: Beautiful

"Sheik, hey..." Link shook the shoulder of his sleeping comrade. He grumbled and drowsily shooed away Link's arm as he pulled the blankets higher. Rolling his eyes, he tried again. "Hey! Wake up."

"_What?"_ He jerked up in bed, scowling angrily with squinting eyes. "What the hell do you want? Can't you see I'm busy?"

Link tried to imagine Sheik's appearance more disheveled, but he could not. His hair was sticking up in tufts atop his scalp, his clothes were wrinkled and crooked, and his eyes were crusty with sleep and bloodshot in exhaustion. His complexion was pale, as if there was no blood pulsing through his lean body.

"I need you to dictate a letter for me," he replied, in a hushed tone. They were still in the infirmary, early in the morning, where numerous patients—and the princess—were still fast asleep. Link did not like the atmosphere; the scent of sickness and death hung ominously in the air, and made him feel suffocated.

"Link." Sheik stared at him in disdain. "Write it your damn self." The bad mood he was in was quite obvious, but Link was not fazed. He was, however, hesitant.

"It's...better if you do it. I have bad hand-writing." Link made the same excuse that he made every time. He glanced instinctively at the princess, whose body was rising and falling methodically with each breath that she took. He smiled to himself.

"Are you kidding me?" he mumbled ill naturedly, finally dragging himself out of bed. "You're lucky that I like you, Link."

"Wow, lucky me."

"At least go get me paper and a quill," Sheik whined, sitting on the edge of his bed as he rubbed his narrow eyes. "I don't want to get up."

"Fine."

Using his knees to support himself, Link pushed himself off of his bed and onto his feet, where he stretched his arms and let out a large yawn. He could taste the remains of sleep on his tongue, and scrunched up his face distastefully. After a few moments of recollecting his senses and ability to maneuver, he walked to the back of the infirmary, where Ilia was already awake and preparing herself for the day's errands.

"Good morning, sleepy head," she greeted, without looking up from her work. He smiled lazily and waved.

"Hi, Ilia. Do you have a quill and paper?"

"Sure do. Right here."

"Thanks, you're the best."

Sheik was almost asleep again when Link reached him, holding out the paper desperately.

"Come on, I need to get this done."

"But...I'm...sleepy..."

"I'll write it for you."

Link whirled around, slightly startled at seeing the princess, wide-awake and sitting up in bed. Her expression was solemn and her face was hard, but there was the same twinkle in her eyes as always. She was almost as pale as Sheik, and looked vulnerable and shaken. Link looked at her sympathetically, and without warning, her sight triggered the memory of Damita in his head. He hastily tried to shake it away.

"Princess," he stammered, "are you feeling better?"

"No. Give me the paper." Her voice had the authoritative tone of a true princess, the kind of tone that he had not yet seen in Zelda. He blinked, wrapping his mind around her demanding presence, and then finally handed her the parchment and quill. She grabbed the nearest solid surface—a book about taking care of horses—and placed the parchment upon it. "All right, start dictating."

"Um..." Link glanced momentarily at Sheik, who shrugged drowsily and then fell back into bed with a grumble. "Dear Ashei..."

She scribbled the words, and as she bent her head, thick and tangled strands of blonde hair fell over her shoulder and around her face, like tattered golden drapes. Then, she finally looked up, oblivious to the fact that Link was completely and utterly mesmerized.

"Isn't Ashei the one in Snowpeak?"

"Yes," he nodded distantly. Zelda paused for a moment, simply looking at him thoughtfully, and then turned her gaze back to the letter.

"Keep going."

"Uh—Dear Ashei..." He stopped again.

"You already said that."

Link was taken aback at the sudden starkness of the princess's character. He had never seen, or even imagined this side of her; the sweet-tempered and charming girl had been replaced with a harsh, demanding princess who seemed to be displaying no emotion at all. There was no feeling in her face, and Link could not deduce what sentiments were truly whirling around inside of her. He felt overwhelmed.

Link attempted to continue the dictation. His distraction was beginning to weigh down his thought process, but he tried to put the princess's sudden change out of his head. The Loyalist simply could not do it; ever since last night...

"Princess, excuse me for interrupting, but," he sighed, "what's wrong?"

Her eyes glistened as she stared up at him, and he noticed her hand trembling as it hovered over the paper. Her gaze was piercing, and Link was beginning to feel oddly queasy beneath it. Sheik snored awkwardly in his slumber, breaking the tense silence.

Instead of replying, Zelda pushed the covers off of her legs and swung them over the side of the bed, placing the letter on her pillow. Then she stood up and, with Link watching her the whole time, moved toward Shad's bed beside hers. He thought he caught a glimpse of a tear in her eye, but she looked down before he could be certain. Caringly, her fingers brushed the matted hair from Shad's sweating face, and he moved his head slightly at her touch. Link saw the beginnings of a smile on the princess's face, and naturally gravitated toward her.

"I don't know what to do," she finally replied bluntly. Link didn't know what to say. "She took everything from me, and she was right there. She was right there and I just let her get away."

The guilt Link felt at that moment was a guilt unsurpassed by that of any other situation. He felt the strain in Zelda's voice, and could practically see the hatred etched into the wrinkles around her disappointed frown. The princess shook her head slowly.

"I can't believe that I didn't do anything when I saw her," she continued with a cynical chuckle. "I just sat there like an idiot, watching her slowly pick my life apart. It's those eyes..." Her teeth were now clenched in anger. "I won't ever forget that frightening fire in those eyes. It will always remind me of what she did."

"It's...not your fault," Link attempted to reassure her. But he was having trouble keeping his own thoughts straight. The halting of the snoring made him aware that Sheik was awake as well, no doubt listening on their conversation.

"I just feel so useless now," she sniffled. "Look at what happened to Shad." Link opened his mouth, but closed it again after realizing that Zelda's words should've been his own.

"There was nothing you could've done. She outsmarted us all."

It was then that the princess jerked her head up and narrowed her watery eyes at him, and he saw her fists clench indiscreetly.

"You should've killed her when you had the chance," she suddenly accused. "Then all of this would be over!"

"Zelda, I—"

"No! This isn't my fault," she hissed. "It's _yours._ You had the chance to kill her and you just _stood there!"_

"Woo, that was a great nap." Sheik sat up in bed, stretching his arms. Link's mouth was slightly open, letting the words he meant to say drift away. He could barely function correctly while the princess was staring at him like that, with an expression of ferocity comparable to that of Damita's. In fact, she was reminding him of her with each passing moment, and the nostalgia left him mercilessly rooted to the spot and at a loss for words.

"Hey, are you guys hungry? Because I'm starving." Sheik looked at them with a warning expression as he got himself out of bed. When they didn't reply, still staring at each other—each with their own separate expression—he turned to Ilia and yelled across the tent. "Ilia! Let's go grab some food!"

"Sure thing, Sheik." The two of them left the tent, sneaking glances at the princess and the leader as they passed.

"I..." For a few moments, Link considered apologizing. He considered telling the princess everything so she could understand his intentions; he considered pouring his heart to her and letting her know why all of this was happening. He considered trusting her.

But he wasn't ready for that, and so, he said nothing except:

"I'm sorry."

Zelda, on the other hand, still had a lot to say.

"How could you let her get away with that when you know everything she's done to me? Just try to explain to me what was going on through you head!" As she pointed a finger, she stepped forward. Link almost took an according step back...but decided against it. "She's a threat, and you didn't even act upon that slightly crucial fact." Her logical side was kicking in, replacing her pure and unadulterated anger.

"I thought that maybe you were different than you appeared," she admitted without warning. Link blinked, confused at that statement. It hurt him in a way that he couldn't explain. "I thought that maybe you would have some compassion."

"Princess—"

"_Stop!"_

Before she could utter another word, he wrapped his arms around her. And as soon as he pulled her into his embrace, letting her forehead lean against his shoulder, she burst into tears. Then, he calmly whispered into her ear, "I'm so sorry." It was the only thing he could think to say.

* * *

The chaos of emotions that were clashing inside of Zelda was enough to make her head spin and her stomach churn. She was angry at Link and, more importantly, at herself for being so weak. She felt an undying sense of hatred for the assassin, Damita, who had attempted to kill yet something else important. She was afraid of what was still to come and whether she would be strong enough or not. She was vulnerable, unable to hold in her emotions any longer. Her mother, she thought, would never have let her emotions slip so easily in front of somebody like Link. The queen had always been a composed and regal ruler, with a charming smile, warm eyes, and the ability to keep herself calm in any situation. Zelda wondered how on earth she was letting herself cry, once again, in the presence of a civilian.

Zelda wasn't sure what she felt about Link at that particular moment. On one hand, she hated him almost as much as she hated Damita; the assassin had practically begged for death, and he had stood there uselessly. He had let her escape again. And on the other hand, there was a hidden sympathy within the princess that was beginning to show itself. Something about the way the two of them had reacted—the Loyalist leader and the Rebel assassin—made it seem as though they had had past experiences. Link had mentioned some kind of promise...Zelda was afraid of what exactly had occurred in their pasts. But by the way Link had reacted, she could only hypothesize that it had been painful. So in a way, she was trying to understand. Yet there was just too little information; she couldn't bank on her instincts alone. At that moment, her logic was overpowering her compassion. And ever since her arrival, she had seen Link as cold and slightly impartial to her existence. The princess had just been starting to feel as if he truly was the great person everyone saw him to be, and then he had crushed her again. She didn't know what to think anymore.

And now he was holding her, with the gentlest touch she'd ever felt, and everything had become even more confusing again. The warmth she was feeling was enough to make her cry harder, especially because it was so sudden and unexpected. After all of her interactions with Link, she never would've envisioned him with such a comforting embrace. She knew she should've been feeling angry and unwilling to let him hold her, yet she felt at home in his arms. It was simply the strangest thing. The apology was even more disconcerting. It made her feel strangely guilty for accusing him of having no compassion.

She stood for what seemed like an eternity, letting herself sob in his embrace, all the while reprimanding herself and trying to think of what her mother would do. She certainly would not be blubbering like this. Finally, she pulled away, hastily wiping her eyes and taking a hesitant step backwards. Link was silent once more, staring at her sympathetically. Then, she spoke.

"Let's finish the letter."

She needed time to work things out and find out how she truly felt. And she had a premonition that it was going to take a while.

* * *

It had been three days since the attack. The Loyalists, in the chill of the coming winter, were all gathered around a large bonfire in the center of the camp, huddled together beneath their warmest, thickest blankets. The fire was tall and emanated a heat that enshrouded every single Loyalist, and their faces were consumed by the smiles of contentment as they chatted lightheartedly and told jokes. Zelda sat on the ground between Sheik and Malon, hugging her knees to her chest beneath the quilt sheet. Link, of course, was pacing uneasily outside of his tent, obviously too concerned about everything to enjoy himself at the campfire. Even Shad, still bandaged and a sickly pale, was sitting amongst his friends on one of the logs around the campfire.

"Hey, Sheik?"

"Yes?" He stretched his arm out and put his hands behind his head. Then he closed his eyes, letting the shadows of the flames lick at his tranquil face.

"I have a really random question."

"Let her rip."

"Um...okay. It's about Ashei," Zelda chuckled. Sheik opened one eye. Zelda had been wondering about the letter Link had had her write ever since. The letter itself had simply contained a description of what had happened to Shad, addressed to the Loyalist doing research at Snowpeak. Zelda had simply been too preoccupied to wonder about it before. "Why was it so important to get her a letter? Why not send it to others?"

Sheik and Malon looked each other with slightly amused expressions. The princess's curiosity was only augmented.

"Zelda," Sheik smiled. "Ashei is Shad's fiancée."

"His _what?_"

"I'm surprised you didn't know," Malon shrugged. "Their wedding is scheduled for the spring."

"Shad is _engaged?_" Zelda wide eyes represented her shock, and they looked over skeptically at Shad. "Why didn't he tell me?"

"I guess you never asked," Sheik guessed.

"But he seemed so...I don't know..."

"Not engaged?"

Zelda looked at Sheik wryly.

"Sorry, not helping."

The princess remembered that night, at the Twilight Ball, where she had danced with Shad so nonchalantly. She had truly thought that perhaps there was a chance with him, even after he had left; actually, Zelda was never really sure what she had felt for Shad. A friend, certainly, but perhaps it had been more than that. Of course, at that moment, the smallest hint of a romantic inclination toward him simply melted away.

"I had no idea."

"Psh," Sheik scoffed. "Just wait until you meet Ashei. Then you'll be even more shocked."

"What? Why?"

Then, as if on cue, there was silence. And all heads turned to the entrance of the camp from the forest, where the sound of heavy footsteps could be heard clearly. Zelda could make out a dark silhouette, marching toward the fire. Everybody was completely quiet, and when she glanced over at Link, she saw him take on an expression of complete and utter terror. Shad, on the other hand, ran a hand over his face and sighed heavily.

"_LINK!"_ A female voice bellowed throughout the camp, and Zelda instinctively inched closer to Sheik as the figure came nearer. Then, she fell beneath the light of the fire, and her features became prominent.

"Oh geez," Sheik chuckled. "This should be interesting."

"Ashei!" Shad laughed uneasily, standing up with a breath of pain. "Dear, so nice to see—"

The girl, with dark black hair in a ponytail and fiery golden eyes, clad in wintery clothing and carrying the expression of an angry bull, walked straight past her future husband and marched right up to Link. The leader scratched the back of his neck apprehensively and tried to smile, but it looked more like a horrified grimace.

"Hi, Ashei..."

"What the _hell_ is wrong with you?" The girl smacked the side of his head, making him stumble back in surprise and pain. Sheik held in his laughter, while Zelda watched in awe as the situation unfurled. "Are you literally stupid?"

"That's embarrassing," Sheik chuckled subtly.

"Ashei—"

"Shad! You stay out of this!" she screamed at him, and then instantly turned back to Link. Shad shrunk back in his seat, trying to ignore the snickering of his comrades. "How could you let this happen?"

"It's kind of obvious who wears the pants in that relationship," Sheik murmured, making Malon and Zelda both burst into a fit of giggling.

"You should've ripped her to shreds," Ashei hissed. "You should _not_ have let her get away with doing that to him."

"I..." Link paused for a moment, and it seemed as though the entire camp was tense in their anticipation for his reply. "I know."

"I can't believe—" She started to scream some more, but then held her tongue. Her ferocious expression was only heightened by the red complexion of the fire against her pale skin. Then, she seemed to calm herself. "Just don't do it again."

Link just nodded, and then broke eye contact. The girl, evidently Ashei, finally turned to Shad. Without a single word, she ran to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning into him without realizing the pain to which he was being submitted.

"Welcome back, Ashei," he murmured, stroking her shining black hair and kissing her ear with a soft smile. "I missed you."

"I'm so glad you're okay."

Zelda couldn't help but smile. From the first moments of witnessing Ashei, she knew that she and Shad were undoubtedly opposites. But she also knew that their bond was a strong one.

"She's beautiful," she whispered to Malon. She nodded vivaciously, cocking her head dreamily.

"Yeah...she really is. They're perfect for each other."

Zelda simply watched, leaning her head on Sheik's shoulder drowsily. Ashei and Shad seemed so engulfed in one another's presence, the gentleness shining in their irises. It was lovely, and in a strange way, made Zelda want to cry.

* * *

**Hee hee. Tell me what you guys thought of this slightly overly romantic chapter in some reviews! This chapter came rather quickly, so maybe the next one will, as well! But don't count on it :P So long! :) **


	24. Duties of a Princess

**Three words: High School sucks. School is so stressful right now, and I really wish I had more time to write this. I'm so excited about this chapter, though, and I hope you guys are, too. It's kind of messy though because I didn't edit it as much because I really just wanted to get it uploaded haha. Anyway, I hope you guys like it.**

**Also, thank you to everybody who has reviewed and given me ideas-The Pilot, that means you-because they really DO help. So keep it up, please, I love you all, ENJOY. :3**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Three: Duties of a Princess

Damita collapsed a few meters away from the entrance to the Rebel camp. She did not collapse out of physical exhaustion, or out of pain; she collapsed out of fear and mental agony. The sun was high, suggesting that it was near noon, and she had been travelling ever since her failed attack at the Loyalist camp.

_What's wrong with me? I'm the most skilled assassin at the camp,_ she thought in frustration. Her fingers clenched into fists, grabbing aimlessly at the warm grains of sand beneath her palms. _Why can't I do anything right?_

"I'm falling apart..." she murmured, closing her eyes in an attempt to forget the chaos of her mind. It didn't work. Before the invasion, there was no target she couldn't hit dead on. Anybody Master wanted gone would be buried within two days. For three years, the Loyalists had been tracking her, attempting to bring her down and stop her. And they had never once been able to pin her down. All of a sudden, she was incapable of assassinating a helpless scholar, asleep in his tent.

_I'm doubting myself. I'm not as confident as I was before..._ Her fists tightened. _I miss him too much. _

It was all because of Link. The invasion had turned on the switch inside of her mind; after seeing him, everything she had been so sure of became foggy inside of her mind. Her motives were now blurred. Her confidence waned, and the love that had just been starting to finally ebb had surged back more strongly than ever before. When she finally laid her eyes on him again that night, in the tent, in the place where their love had blossomed, she had fallen apart. Damita had anticipated a breakdown, but she had not expected it to be so harsh. She felt hurt, confused, and bruised.

_What will Master think? He's going to kill me._

It was not an exaggeration. She finally made herself open her eyes, and for a moment, she saw blurs of bright and spotted colors. Then the dizziness subsided, and she was able to sit up desolately. Damita sat there for what seemed like forever, keeping her hands clasped in her lap and as erect as an arrow. The soft warm wind of the desert blew by, and flecks of sand became caught in the silver tangled mess on her scalp. She wasn't sure how long she was going to sit there, contemplating everything that was happening, but she knew it was going to be a while. Her mind needed to be cleared, and she needed to make some final decisions.

The encounter with Link continuously replayed in her mind, making her entire head ache. It made her reassess her situation. It seemed as if ever since she had become a Rebel, the Loyalists had her on their death list. And then, when she had finally been within their reach, literally begging for death, they had done nothing. It confused her to no end, and made her longing for him more painful than ever. She saw the familiar look in his eyes, and he proved to her with his refusal that he still could not hurt her. He was going to keep the promise he had made so long ago, the beautiful night of their very first kiss...

* * *

...Damita was sitting on the edge of the riverbank with her knees curled into her chest, using every ounce of strength in her body to hold back the tears. The night was cold. She was hungry. She was alone. She was tired. But she didn't want a single tear to escape her trembling irises. She didn't want to prove her weakness, even if it was only to herself. She wanted to know that she was strong. At sixteen years old, Damita was sensitive. And having the horrid memories that she did made nothing better. Every night the nightmares haunted her, forcing her to revisit the horrors that had plagued her and were still dictating every single one of her actions.

"Damita? Is that you?"

The familiar voice, recently lowered by the transformation of time, startled Damita in the silence.

"L-Link," she stumbled, hastily wiping her eyes. He walked up beside her, and then sat down on the wet mud. There was a gentle smile on his face. "What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep," he shrugged, "and I thought the sound of the stream would calm me down." Absentmindedly, he grabbed a nearby stick, and poked it into the water. Drowsily tilting his head, he swirled it around in the darkness of the stream, creating ripples in the distorted reflection of the moon above them. Damita took a deep and relieved breath, realizing that Link had the strange ability to calm her down with simply his presence.

"What about you? What are you doing?"

"Thinking," she sighed. "About everything...why I'm here."

"I guess it's fate," he guessed with a chuckle. Damita rolled her eyes with a scoff.

"Fate? Do you really believe in that?" Her eyes watched him intently, but he kept his eyes firmly on the water. "We make our own fate."

"But everything happens for a reason," he argued. "Sometimes things happen that we can't control."

"No. We can control every part of our life," she growled. "We just need time to learn how to do it."

Link opened his mouth, ready to argue more, but finally, he closed his lips. Damita watched him curiously, surprised at his silence. Their bickering had never stopped ever since they'd met, and it wasn't usual for Link to simply let it go. His personality was much too authoritative, just as much as Damita's was. They never stopped fighting...until that moment. Link paused for a moment, standing still. Then, without warning, he lifted the stick from the water and threw it as hard as he could. It fell with a rustle among the bushes in the distance.

Damita found, with slight surprise, that she could not take her eyes off of him. She remembered when he had first found her, at fifteen years old, a scrawny kid with childish features and a voice even higher-pitched than hers. She remembered seeing his large eyes when she had woken up, and the scraggly, dirty blond hair and remains of baby fat still hanging in his cheeks. Within a year, he had transformed. His face had changed, taking on the sharp and angular features of a man, and his voice had dropped to a smooth and comforting tone. The chubbiness had evaporated from every inch of his body, leaving layers of muscle upon muscle. She watched him move his arm as he threw the stick and flexed; his arm was lean and undoubtedly as hard as a rock. His features had become attractive and charming rather than childish and friendly. When Damita had first met Link, she never would've imagined feeling this way. But now, after getting to know him so well, it was actually hard to contain her emotions. She didn't want to fall in love.

"I was having nightmares," she finally said, without really meaning to. Link looked at her with a soft expression. "I couldn't sleep either." Damita reprimanded herself in her head. She had promised herself she would never tell anybody; she didn't want help. But sitting there beside Link, the closest friend she had at camp, she couldn't control herself.

"What were they about? The nightmares, I mean?" He sounded caring and affectionate rather than curious and nosy. His voice made her want to tell him more.

"They were about..." she paused, and then straightened her legs with a sweet smile. "They were about the day you found me." Link furrowed his brow.

"Really? You were having nightmares about _me?"_

Damita couldn't help but laugh, and instinctively inch closer.

"No, I mean _before_ you found me." Though her tone was lighthearted, it was painful even to think of it. "When, well...when they killed my parents."

"Oh." They were silent. Then, trying to console her, he spoke again. "I never knew my parents. Rusl told me that they died the day I was born."

"I'm sorry." It was the only thing she could think of to say; Link had never confided in her before, and she wasn't sure what she should've done in response.

"Eh, I guess it's better that I never met them," he smiled shakily. "It would've been worse if I had had time to love them."

Damita dipped her bare feet into the stream, and before she could stop herself, leaned against Link and let her head fall onto his shoulder.

"It was terrible," she agreed. The horrible pictures started again in her head, and the tears came on stronger than ever on the verges of her eyes. "But, even though that was the worst day of my life...it was also the best."

"What? Why?" Link stared at her with a concerned expression as she lifted her head from his shoulder for a moment. Then, the urges inside of her exploded into fireworks of emotion, and the temptations became too much. That affectionate sparkle in his eyes seemed to provoke every single good feeling inside of her.

"Because I met you."

Taking him completely by surprise, Damita grabbed his collar and kissed him. And just as her lips met his, tears streamed down her face in flurries. When she finally let go of his shirt and pulled away, holding back sobs, Link's eyes were still wide and his mouth was slightly open.

"Uh..."

"I'm sorry," Damita sniffled, turning away ashamedly. She didn't want him to see her like this, especially after what she had just done. She suddenly regretted it, wondering what Link was going to think of her now.

"No, it's...it's okay," he swallowed, licking his lips. "It's okay."

"Ever since that day, you've been my best friend," she continued in between her deep breaths.

"Please don't cry," Link sighed. Then, while she ignored his request and broke into uncontrollable sobs, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap. His arms felt just as strong as they looked, and his entire body emitted a beautiful sense of warmth, and she fell into him willingly. He stroked her hair, and rubbed her back, and whispered words of comfort.

"Damita, they hurt you so much," he murmured. Then, while she tried to compose herself, he kissed the top of her head.

"I promise you that I'll never let you get hurt. As long as I live, I promise I will do everything in my power to keep you safe."

Damita had never expected words to have such an impact on her. And even more importantly, she had never expected Link to truly keep his promise...

* * *

She only entered the camp when all of her tears were dried. And she entered with dignity, ready to face Master with her news. Link had thrown away his safety, his reputation, everything for her. The least she could do was defend herself. The least she could do was make sure she was worth rescuing.

* * *

"I'm leaving. In three days time."

"You're joking...right?"

"No."

"_Link!"_ Sheik threw his arms into the air, staring at Link as if he had literally lost his mind. The Loyalist leader sat, motionless on his bed, looking back evenly. "It's only been one week since Damita broke in. The entire camp is still going insane, and you want to _leave?_"

"Yes. They're all angry with me anyway. Now is a good time to leave."

"Very logical." Sheik rolled his eyes and leaned on the post of the tent, folding his arms. "Can I at least ask why?"

"I don't know what the Rebel camp is planning. It's obviously something big—"

"Please don't tell me you're going to the Rebel camp."

"Don't worry, I'm not..." He paused ominously. "Yet."

"All right then, where are you going?" Sheik's crazed state was beginning to subside, but he was just as cynical as ever.

"I want to talk to the Zoras and the Gorons," he began explaining. "I don't know what the Rebels have said to them, and should war break out, it would be helpful to have them as allies. They're powerful races."

"Whoa, whoa, _whoa_. War?" His insanity returned. "What do you mean, 'war?'"

"Sheik, come on," Link raised his eyebrows. "Don't tell me you weren't expecting this. I mean, the Rebel Leader wants war. Why else would he be doing this? For fun?"

"I don't know, people have crazy ideas when it comes to enjoying themselves."

"Stop it. You know that we need to do this."

"Well then send a messenger or something. We need you here, Link, not off frolicking in some pond!"

"It's a lake."

"Whatever. You know what I mean." Link stood up, as tall as he could, and sighed.

"We have to be diplomatic."

"Take somebody with you," Sheik offered. Link grinned, knowing that he had won. He always won these arguments.

"I was hoping you would—"

"Nah, I would rather stay here," Sheik scoffed, "monitoring _your_ camp."

"Hmm. Good point."

"Take Shad. He's a great diplomat!"

"Really? You want me to drag Shad, who can't even lift a sword, all around Hyrule _while_ he's injured?" Link crossed his arms and glared at Sheik expectantly.

Sheik paused, narrowing his eyes slightly in a pondering expression.

"Link, you're so dumb. Why would you even consider Shad?"

"Yeah, silly me."

"Hmm..." Together, the two of them peeked out of the tent. They examined the campers passing by, secretly inspecting each person as they ran their daily errands, speaking both in worried tones and chatting lightheartedly.

"Her?" Sheik gestured.

"Too sensitive."

"Oh, what about him?"

"Way too shy."

"Him?"

"Too distracted."

"Why do we have nobody in this camp fit for this job?" Sheik cried in exasperation.

Just at that moment, an arrow whizzed in front of his nose, causing him to cross his wide eyes as he watched it pass. He and Link both turned their heads, furrowing their brows. Yards away stood Princess Zelda, slowly lowering her bow and smiling in satisfaction. She had made her own target practice, shooting from one end of the camp to the other; she had grown bored with the target practice in the training field. Glancing back the other way, they saw the arrow stuck in the middle of the bulls-eye on the other end of the camp. Sneakily, Sheik looked over at Link.

"No."

"She _is_ a princess. If anybody knows how to be a diplomat, it's her. And she can be quite convincing," he raised his eyebrows.

"No! It's too dangerous! I can't risk her getting hurt."

"Good morning, boys." The princess walked past them, smiling charmingly as she moved to retrieve her arrow. They stared after her.

"Link. Come on."

He sighed, watching her gracefully pluck the arrow from the target and smooth its feather.

"I don't know."

It had been a week since their nightly tutoring sessions had begun. Link was still struggling, but he was slowly beginning to learn. She was a better teacher than he had expected, and along with literacy, he was learning more about the princess herself...and the scariest part was that she was probably learning more about him, as well. The truth was, he was afraid of what would happen if they went on this journey together.

"Link. Look at me." Sheik stepped in front of his best friend and put his hands on Link's shoulders. "You need her for this. Nobody else can do it." He knew what Link was thinking.

His eyes moved back toward the princess, who was distractedly running her fingers along the narrow shaft of the arrow. She looked almost surreal, standing in the rays of the sun with that gentle smile on her face.

"Fine, I'll take Zelda." With a heavy sigh, Link turned away so that he wouldn't see Sheik's triumphant smile. He stormed back into his tent, running his fingers through his hair. His feelings were very mixed; he didn't want her to come...but he did.

* * *

Hyrule was in a panic. People were arguing amongst themselves, chaotic and in turmoil. Some believed the princess to be in hiding, or even kidnapped. That's why she was absent from the castle. But others—and, quite honestly, most—believed her to be dead. Not even the Royal Council knew where their beloved princess had gone. Security around Castle Town had been increased tenfold, and there were security guards spread out throughout Hyrule to protect citizens. Search parties scoured the lands for the princess, more than one at a time, but to no avail. She was nowhere to be found; not even her body had been discovered in the aftermath of the invasion. Council members and various aristocrats at the castle had been killed as well that evening, and people were beginning to have doubts about the stability of their government. In the absence of Princess Zelda, things were not going well. And she had absolutely no idea.

The Gorons were undeniably curious. They were a peaceful people with happy relations with the Hyruleans, and they had made various treaties and alliances with the Princess and her ancestors in the past, and it quite genuinely upset them to see Hyrule crumbling before them. To some Gorons, it merely confirmed their suspicions of the Hyruleans as being weak. Some had always believed them to be lacking strength, and went far enough as to laugh at the people of Hyrule in their time of need. The more sympathetic Gorons, along with Darunia and the Goron elders, however, were worried and concerned for their neighbors. They had aided them in the past and, if there were a force strong enough to throw the entire civilization into panic, then it would surely strike again. Something would certainly need to happen to keep themselves protected from this unseen force and the assassins that now dotted the kingdom. Some Gorons, though they didn't care to admit it, were afraid.

The Zoras were close to chaos themselves. They had always been a race very close to the civilization of Hyrule, and had a strong past with the Hylians who lived there. The royal families of both races had strong ties. To see their friends, with whom they had a strong alliance, so chaotic and in danger, made them afraid. Princess Laruto, who was vague childhood friends with the princess, mourned Zelda's disappearance. The political gains they had with the Royal Council were certainly going to wither away if something was not done about the governmental turmoil. There were many Zoras who were friends with humans and Hylians, and they were nervous for them. Aside from worrying about the Hyruleans, the Zoras were scared for themselves, as well; if somebody were trying to bring down Hyrule, then that same force would come after its closest ally next. And its closest ally was the civilization of Lake Hylia.

Aristocracy and classes of poverty alike were living in fear. People did not go out alone at night. They kept weapons at the ready and had escape plans prepared. Groups of aristocrats and long friends of the Royal Family were beginning to doubt their own allegiances, and wondering if—with the princess leaving no natural heir to the throne—the system under which Hyrule had been run for centuries would finally crumble, and their entire way of living would disappear. Or perhaps a coup would occur, and the people would take control...

Most people simply wished for the princess's return.

* * *

**I hope you guys liked it, and don't forget to review! Thank you! Hopefully I'll update soon ^_^**


	25. History

**Hi everyone! Yes. I'm ali****ve...somehow? Anyway, I AM SO SO SO SO SORRY ABOUT THIS WAIT. There are numerous reasons for this long break of mine. Reason number one: you guessed it, school. My favorite thing in the whole world. It turned out to be even more work than I was anticipating, SO, I had to stop with the writing for a while. It broke my heart a little. Reason number two: a writer's block. This also broke my heart. I literally could not think of ANYTHING. But, finally, it came to me (literally at one o'clock in the morning last week) and I couldn't stop writing. I hope you guys didn't forget about me, because I PROMISE I didn't forget you! I just didn't get the chance or have the motivation to get back on this wonderful site. Anyway, if you guys need refreshers, just look back at the chapters before this and things should be clear. I hope this chapter is a worthy one for your wait! I LOVE YOU ALL. ENJOY NOW 3**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Four: History

"I've been considering your punishment for a while now, darling. It really saddens me, thinking that after everything I do, you still haven't learned anything. After _everything_ that has happened, you still don't know what it means to truly be a Rebel. Embarrassing...pathetic, if you will."

Damita remained as silent as a statue.

"And you don't even have anything to say about it! The audacity in you young people." Master was at the point of mocking her, but she no longer felt the humiliation she would've felt yesterday. Her pride had taken over, and slowly, her temper was rising.

"Do whatever you want with me. Kill me, if you want...and then watch your camp crumble," she sighed nonchalantly. Her voice was smooth and defiant, without a single hint of shakiness. The expression that crossed her Master's face, the anger and surprise, was almost enough to make her laugh.

"So now you're _asking_ me for death," he hissed.

"I never asked for it. I simply accept it, if it's the fate you should choose. And I'm reminding you of the consequences of doing so. Regardless of my mistakes, you, and I, and everybody in this god-forsaken camp know what would happen if I was dead."

This time, Master was the silent one. The satisfaction that rushed through her at that particular moment was thrilling. He knew that she was right; he couldn't lay a finger on her.

"You dance with foolishness, my love," he growled.

"Maybe. But right now...so do you. It's an easy dance, is it not?" She flashed him her sweetest, most seducing smile. His dark brow furrowed, and his thick lips curled in frustration. Only a few days ago, Damita would have ridiculed herself for causing such feelings to stir within her Master; she would have forced herself to hold her tongue. But she was done playing that game. She was sick of letting him sulk in the shadows while she dried up beneath the blistering heat of the desert sun.

"So. Tell me of this punishment that you have so thoroughly thought out."

Master suddenly straightened up, recovering his leisurely stature. Clasping his beefy hands behind his back, he began his signature pacing throughout the tent. Damita's flashing eyes followed him incredulously, waiting for his response. He waited a few moments until he was certain that the anger within him had sufficiently subsided.

"No punishment."

"...Interesting."

"Please, don't act so relieved," he spat, smoothly sarcastic.

"I'm not acting. Nor am I relieved. I was just expecting it." She grinned again. Rather than scream and lash out at her, as she knew he was dying to, he threw his head back and laughed. Damita could see that she was rattling his chain quite vivaciously and beginning to crack through his empty façade of niceties. Her plan was working.

"Were you? Such a clever little cat."

"If I wasn't clever, I wouldn't be your best assassin."

"Again, I cannot argue."

With a dramatic flutter of his dark cape, embellished with the familiar symbol of the Rebellion Camp, he turned to face her head on, with a shadowy expression. She saw fire flash in his eyes, and for the first time since her return, felt only the slightest pang of fear.

"Now, Damita, how would it be logical for me to punish you when I have another mission for you?"

That question, so sadistic and snide, was what nearly sent her off the edge.

_Less than a day. I've been back less than a day, and already he's giving me these missions? Humph. I suppose that's the worst punishment I can get._

Of course, Damita could not show any hints of exasperation. That was what he wanted, and at that point, she was desperate to deprive him of that.

"...What is it?"

"You will depart in a week, first for Lake Hylia. Once you are finished there, you will proceed to Death Mountain."

"To what _end_, Master?" she sighed. He chuckled, and continued pacing. She noticed him coming sneakily closer to her with every step, but chose to ignore it.

"You of all people would know about the strategies of the Loyalists. You know of their tactics...and the capabilities of their leader. Why, you've experienced it numerous times!"

"And? Please, Master, get to the point."

"Don't you dare taunt me, girl. I have more power than you can imagine." His voice was losing the steady stature to which Damita was so accustomed. She could feel the trembles in his words.

"The mission, sir?" She ultimately decided to restrain herself, even if it was a little bit; the fact that he was not killing her meant that maybe she was getting somewhere. She warned herself not to push it.

"As I was saying," he sighed, "Link is a very strategic leader. In fact, he believes that his plans are foolproof. Which, so far, they have proven to be. But I know what he is planning to do. I know his next step." Master was forgetting about his anger in his passion; the lust for power that had originally intrigued Damita was shining through once more, and she was grateful for his gradual slip out of aggravation.

"And what step might that be?"

"They have Princess Zelda at their disposal. Surely, almost _certainly_, Link's next step will be to gain the allegiance of the Gorons and the Zoras in their fight against our patriotic rebellion cause. Why would he do this? Because, he knows our plan. He knew from the beginning of my intentions to turn the princess's people against her." Master's words splurged from his mouth in a flurry, almost as if he couldn't control the flow of his thoughts.

"Sir, how can you be certain that—?"

"I know how he thinks," he interrupted condescendingly, pausing and straightening his back. "I know what goes on inside the head of a Loyalist. I've battled them long enough to know."

"Very well then." Damita refused to praise him, even though his conclusions were brilliant. The more he spoke of it, the more Damita realized how true his words were. That was exactly what Link would do: use diplomacy when violence fails.

"Therefore, I want you to go to the Princess Laruto...and Darunia...and convince them to detest the princess. She did allow the capture of their people...did she not?" Snickering, he lifted a newspaper from his table: the one with the victims' of his kidnappings on the cover. "In my opinion, they should detest her anyway."

"Master, the Zoras and the Gorons have had strong alliances with the Hylian Royal Family for years. It's no surprise that they would not easily lose their faith in the princess," Damita added. The man, still hidden in his sulky pool of shadows, nodded in agreement.

"Exactly. You are persuasive, and cunning—more so than any princess. So much so that you have even the Loyalist leader under your spell."

Damita knew that Master would take notice of her loss of control at the comment. She flinched, directing her gaze to the ground and trying feebly to control the quickly increasing pace of her heart. He was pointing out her flaws again, knowing her reaction. He was testing her.

"And?" She said the only thing she could think to say that would allow her to keep her passion under control.

"You will be able to convince the Zora princess and the Goron patriarch of where their allegiance should lie. Our attempt to turn Zelda's kingdom against her still has hope; after the Zoras and the Gorons...we move on to the Hyrulean people." Master began pacing once more, with a slightly insane grin on his face and a cruel flare in his eyes. The fear inside of her was augmented by his current appearance.

"I will do as you wish," she replied. Abruptly, he softened his expression and stepped closer to her. She could simply feel the hatred—and, somewhere, the admiration—emanating between them. And she knew it was mutual.

"Tell me, my beautiful desert killer...is it not the most clever and cunning idea?" He looked straight into her eyes.

_He sees right through me._

For a few moments, she thought about what she would reply.

_I could stay defiant, and say something to the effect of insulting him..._

_ Or I could just do what he wants, because he won't be happy any other way..._

_ Or I could keep my mouth shut and see what he does! Ha, that would really show him. _

She decided that for now, it was easier to fall into his mold.

"Extremely so, Master." She put on her own mask, almost matching his, and bowed her head respectfully.

"Good. Nabooru will be joining you. Go prepare." He gave a smile that looked more like a satisfied snarl, and turned his back to her triumphantly. Resisting the urge to spit defiantly at his feet, Damita whirled around and walked out. The encounter had been somewhat successful...

Now the most worrisome thing on her mind was her new mission of convincing the Zoras and the Gorons of something that was completely false.

That part wasn't even the most frightening.

What frightened Damita the most was the prospect of running into Link on the way.

* * *

Since it was the evening before their departure, Zelda and Link had decided to skip the tutoring that night. The princess knew that somewhere inside of his tent, he was panicking; he would be doing his best to hide it, of course. He was surely pacing his tent pensively, clenching and unclenching his fists, chewing at the stray skin on his lower lip in raw anxiety. Zelda figured that she should've been panicking, as well. She was, in fact, about to embark upon a journey throughout the kingdom as a refugee princess, hiding from a secret society plotting to kill her. Even more intimidating was the fact that it was with Link, and Link alone. And yet, strolling along the bank of the stream in the tranquility of the night, Zelda was perfectly calm. Her eyes meandered from the moon, down to her own serene reflection, and back up to the starry sky. Behind her, she could hear the soft murmur of the Loyalist camp, and the distant crackling of the bonfires.

Her mind had wandered so far that she hadn't realized that she had veered far from the stream. She was now walking up a hill, almost in a trance, further and further from the camp. The upward slope led her into a small circular alcove, surrounded by an impenetrable wall of rocks and effectively isolated from the rest of the camp. Glancing back, she could no longer make out the dark silhouettes of the inhabitants of the camp. Zelda hadn't even known that this small area existed, for it was so far from the camp, and nobody had ever taken the time to show it to her. She found herself wondering if Sheik actually knew about it, or if Link was even aware of its existence.

It was evidently ignored, either way. Vines and aging moss stretched along the rock walls, and weeds grew in extreme abundance along the dirty ground. On one side of the area, there were old poles sticking up from the ground; bugs had eaten through the wood, and the dummies that once stood on these poles were tattered and in pieces. Their remains were scattered at the base of the poles. It seemed almost as if long ago, perhaps decades ago, they had once been used for training. It was obvious that that was no longer the case. Zelda took a step forward, and narrowed her eyes in an attempt to see clearly through the darkness. Soon enough, in realization, her eyes widened and her feet stood frozen.

There, a few yards away from her against the back walls of the area, was an abandoned house. It was not just any house, though. It was a tree house, perched high above the ground. It looked completely deserted, yet intriguing in a way that drew Zelda toward it like bees to flowers in the middle of spring. A shaky ladder stood against the trunk of the sturdy tree, leading straight up to the entrance of the broken-down residence. The princess glanced back once more behind her—was this really so useless that nobody knew about it? Surely they knew.

_So why has it been completely deserted?_

Curiosity pushed her forward, toward the broken and battered rungs of the ladder. Her logic and reason deterred her from the endeavor as she analyzed the dangers of climbing, but her raw desire for adventure and knowledge overshadowed these doubts. Smiling in a combination of anxiety and excitement, she wrapped her fingers around a rung, and immediately felt the blooming pain of the splinters. She rocked the ladder back and forth, checking its sturdiness. To her surprise, it held rather well, and supported her weight as she placed her feet upon it hesitantly. The climb up to her destination was nerve-wracking, but distracting; she almost completely forgot about the journey she would be undertaking in the morning. She almost stopped questioning Link's decision to bring her with him. She almost stopped worrying about what he thought about her, or what this journey would bring for their relationship...

Dust flew around her feet as they made contact with the vestibule at the top of the ladder. Coughing but still relentless, Zelda walked into the house, leaving the darkness outside to enter a different kind of darkness. She started thinking that perhaps it would have been wise to bring a source of light. Then, as if answering her thoughts, her eyes fell upon an ancient lantern standing on a shelf, bathed in the white moonlight shining through a hole in the house. It felt absolutely decrepit in her hands, as if it had not been used for centuries. For all she knew, it hadn't. Yet it was heavy, and upon closer inspection, still filled to the brink with oil.

"How do you...oh!" She jumped back as she accidentally lit the lantern, igniting the helpful fire within it. "Perfect."

She could now see herself standing within an old house, indubitably abandoned for years. When she breathed in the musky aroma, she could simply smell the history thriving inside of this place. More ladders led down to upper stories. On the far side of the room was a fireplace, obviously empty and cold. The remains of ripped tapestries sat on the walls, and there was even a moth-eaten carpet covering the floor. She could see somebody living a simple lifestyle in here, and smiled as her imagination ran wild with possibilities.

_Well, somebody must have lived here at one point,_ she thought as she walked forward with her lantern. _It has all the evidence implying a home of some kind..._

This was the kind of discovery in which the princess relished. The history of her kingdom was her passion, and seeing such a prime example of it made her heart race in ecstasy. There was even an open—though empty—treasure chest in the center of the room, and though she couldn't tell exactly the date it was from, she knew it was old. Blue treasure chests like this hadn't been found in years.

_This is amazing. Why doesn't anybody say anything about this place?_

She climbed the ladder, which was also surprisingly strong, up to the next platform of the house. There was not much there beside a table and a few old, beautifully preserved pictures. Here, the princess let out a small gasp, and held up the lantern to the pictures. She leaned in as close as she could, narrowing her eyes and taking in every detail of the depictions.

"These could be decades...no, centuries old!" she whispered. The first picture was of a horse. It was a beautiful one that was, frighteningly, almost identical to Epona. The horse stood with a complete saddle and bridle, beautiful and majestic, at what seemed to be the base of this house. Zelda smiled softly, realizing that the owner of the house must have also been the owner of this horse.

The second picture was of a strange little group of animals. They seemed like goats, huddled together, eating. A couple of them stared up at the taker of the picture, braying. Zelda chuckled to herself, almost able to hear the curious questions of the creatures. The picture was frayed on the edges, but still in wonderful condition.

The third picture was lovely. Zelda had to get onto her knees to look at it properly, and the wood creaked as she did so, holding up the lantern closely. This picture was of the horse once more; however, there was a boy beside it. She immediately guessed that this boy, standing and smiling with his hand on the horse's neck, was both its owner and the owner of the house. She couldn't see the features of his face because they were blurred with the bad quality of the pictures themselves, but she could see the broad smile on his shockingly young features. His hair was shaggy and fell on his forehead messily, and his clothes were old-fashioned.

The last picture was the most fascinating. Two people were standing arm in arm, one boy with pointed ears and one girl with round eras. Both of them were very young, and the boy appeared to be the same one from the other picture. The girl was rather pretty, and there was a large smile on her radiant face as she enthusiastically leaned against the boy. The features were much less blurred in this particular picture, and Zelda could clearly make out his face this time.

He was beautiful, and wore the same clothes as he had in the other picture. It was obvious that the two friends were close. He had piercing, feral eyes, and a soft, comforting smile...He looked exactly, _stunningly_ like Link. They could've been the same person. It was enough to give her chills.

Zelda stumbled backwards, letting the lantern fall to the floor. Her head suddenly ached, as if somebody were drilling needles into her brain, and her entire body trembled. She knew who the boy was; regardless of the fact that he looked _exactly_ like Link, there was something else about him. It made her teeth chatter and her entire mind shake. It was almost as if she felt connected to the boy in the picture, as if there was something she should've known about him...

More pictures lined the wall. The rest were of them were all of the boy, except one—it was of an older man who seemed angry at being pictured. All of the pictures of this boy resembled Link with chilling detail; of course, this boy was smiling and enjoying himself, while Link rarely smiled. Still, there was something else about him. Zelda's headache increased with each picture she examined.

"How old are these? Fifty years old, at the least," she mumbled, stuttering over her words. "I can't know him. That wouldn't be possible."

The lantern had gone out...but there was still light.

It was coming from the back of her hand, in the form a triangle.

* * *

**A little bit creepy, I know ;) There it is, after months of waiting, the next installment of this story. I'm not going to give up on it, and I hope you guys don't either! I LOVE YOU, don't forget to reviewwwwwww my lovely friends :) See you (hopefully) soon!**


	26. Focus

**Hello! I'M BACK. YES. I HAVE DECIDED TO RETURN. Do you ever have those periods of time (like...long ones...) when you simply can't get ANY inspiration? Well I have been going through that for the past, like, year. So that's why I have been gone. Not to mention school. If any of you know what the IB program is, you know what I'm talking about. ANYWAY, I really hope you haven't forgotten about this little story of mine, and I hope you don't hate me for being gone for so long :( SOWWY. Anyway, enough rambling, here is what you've all been waiting for: CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE! Enjoy, I love you all!  
**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Five: Focus

Zelda could do nothing but stare, awestruck, at the back of her right hand. The triangle continued to shimmer incessantly, emanating a slight blue glow.

_It's not a triangle,_ she finally concluded. Her head was about to burst. _It's the Triforce._ Sure enough, there were three different triangles, stacked upon one another, creating the legendary symbol of the Royal Family and the story of the hero...the symbol of Hyrule itself, and its complete and utter devotion to the goddesses that created it.

Everything was hazy now, and Zelda couldn't think clearly enough to deduce the reasons for the Triforce's sudden appearance on her skin. She had heard of this happening, and she had read about it in her books...but never in a million years had she expected this phenomenon to pop up in her own being. The surprise of it boggled her mind to the point that coherent thoughts were impossible. She just sat there with wide eyes and a racing heart.

_What does it mean?_

* * *

"Zelda! We've been looking everywhere for you!" Sheik gushed as Zelda stumbled into camp. "Where have you been? You should be sleeping. You have a big day tomorrow."

The princess couldn't say a word. Sheik and Link stood, side by side, in front of their tent and watched her with concerned expressions. She hid her clenched fist behind her back.

"...Princess?" Link began.

"Geez, what happened to you?" Sheik cried, putting his hands on her shoulders. "You're shaking!"

Zelda could not stop herself from trembling. Each time she closed her eyes, she saw the boy's face beaming at her from the picture, and relived the appearance of the Triforce on her pale skin, and a chill came over her once more. The symbol was the same one in the patterns on her dresses, and the charm on her necklace, and her earrings, and the tapestries hanging throughout Castle Town...Sheik felt her shudder, and began rubbing her arms frantically.

"Zelda, can you tell me what happened? Where did you go?"

The princess simply shook her head, turned, and walked back to her tent, tightening her fingers around the picture in her hand. She didn't want to forget his face, or his smile; she wanted to know he was real. And for that reason, she had stolen the picture from the tree house, and now put it inside of her knapsack with the folded tunic.

* * *

"What do you think happened to her?" Sheik asked, following Link back into the tent. He just shrugged, sitting back on the bed and burying his face in his hands.

"I knew it was a bad idea to bring her..."

"Link, you haven't even _left_ yet."

"And look at how she's acting! What if she's just been thinking about it, and she realizes how dangerous it is, and—"

"I don't think you realize how brave she actually is," Sheik interrupted defensively. He sat cross-legged on the ground, staring up at Link with flashing eyes. "Look at her situation. And she's never once faltered in her decisions."

"She's brave, but not the kind of brave I'm talking about here," Link snapped. "I need someone who's not afraid to _fight_."

"When the time comes, she won't be. Trust me. She puts up with you, doesn't she? That makes her almost fearless."

"Stop joking around."

Sheik chuckled, "That wasn't a joke, Link."

"Really funny." The irritation was evident in his voice.

"Seriously! If she has the courage to travel across the kingdom with _you_, who have been the biggest jerk to her, then she's brave enough for anything."

"Oh, shut up." Link ran his hands through his hair guiltily as Sheik giggled to himself, lying back against the ground. There was silence for a few minutes as Link tried to convince himself that he had made the correct decision. Sheik could almost read his mind.

"If it's distraction you're worried about—"

"I won't get distracted!" Link surprised even himself with the defensive outburst. He and Sheik both knew that was exactly what Link was worried about: losing sight of the goal.

"Down, boy, down!" Sheik put his hands up. "Well. I guess that's proof that that _is_ what you're worried about." He raised his eyebrows expectantly as Link looked away in anger. Sheik saw right through him.

"Look, I can see how it's easy to be distracted. She's beautiful, and she's charming, and...you know, she has all that princess jazz. And I mean, come on. You guys will _probably_ be sleeping in the same tent...But remember your goal: to protect her. If you get distracted, you won't be able to do that."

_"I won't get distracted!"_ Link cried out again. He wanted more than anything for Sheik to stop bringing those ideas to his head and reminding him of how utterly astounding the princess truly was. He didn't want to think about that, and he certainly didn't want Sheik to _know_ he was thinking about that.

"Touchy. Well, all right then. Good luck, I guess," Sheik sighed, lying back down.

"The only thing I'm worried about is getting the Gorons and the Zoras on our side," he mumbled, just to prove a point. Sheik was being annoying again.

"Whatever," he said leisurely, "do what you think needs to be done. You're the boss. Let's just hope you can actually remain focused enough to do it."

Link didn't respond. He just stared his fists, and tried to think of ways to keep his mind focused.

* * *

The soft chirping of the songbirds shattered the early silence, announcing the break of dawn. Link rolled over in his bed and clung more tightly to the covers, though he was awake and had been all night. The paranoia, combined with the image of Princess Zelda's traumatized face, had driven away any hope of sleep. His eyelids were drooping, yet they refused to close. Frustrated and paradoxically exhausted, he finally jolted up in bed and thrust the blanket to the ground. Almost at the exact moment he stood up, Sheik poked his head into the tent.

"Oh, you're awake," he smiled. "How are you feeling?"

Link just shrugged and aggressively stuffed clothes into his bag. With a sigh, Sheik entered the tent of his own accord and helped Link with his ill-prepared, last minute packing. Outside, camp was stirring earlier than usual. Link tuned out all of the noise, and tried to concentrate on the steady sound of his own breathing.

"Are you ready, Link?" Sheik finally said. "Are you really ready?"

The leader straightened up and stared at Sheik in cold, hard silence for a couple of moments. Then he nodded.

"Yes. Is Zelda ready?"

"She's getting dressed..."

"Okay. We'll leave in half an hour. Are the horses ready?"

"Yeah, but are you sure you should be taking two horses?" Sheik scratched the back of his neck.

"Why shouldn't we?"

"I mean, wouldn't it be more discreet and less of a hassle to just take Epona?" he continued. "Just an idea."

"I still don't understand what's wrong with taking two horses."

"Okay, fine, forget I said anything," Sheik said in exasperation, and dropped a pair of breeches into the bag. Link stared distantly out of the tent, his eyes narrowed in whirring thought. He was trying his very hardest to convince himself that he was not afraid. He was not afraid of leaving camp. He was not afraid of taking Zelda with him. He was not afraid of what would happen on the trip. He was not afraid of Damita.

The only problem was that he was afraid of all of that.

The inhabitants of the camp were gathered at the edge of the forest, murmuring and shuffling among themselves. The sun had just barely risen, yet the entire camp was stirring. Some, interrupted from sleep, were still rubbing the exhaustion from their crusty eyes. Others, early risers like Link and Sheik, were awkwardly twirling their weapons. Zelda and Link stood at the front of the group, on the very edge of the forest, with their backs to the dense array of dark trees. Last minute preparations were being made; Malon was fetching the horses, Sheik was checking their bags to make sure they had sufficient food and water in case they needed it, and the travelers themselves were testing their weapons.

Link cringed as the sound of Zelda's plucked bowstring resonated beside him, and anxiously sheathed his sword. When he looked over at her, he saw that her eyes were glued to the blue hilt of the sword, as if there was a secret code written on it. Her unwavering gaze made him a bit uncomfortable, and he shifted on his feet. Finally, the princess turned away hastily and began absentmindedly double-checking the sturdiness of her arrows.

"Excuse me, coming through!" Malon's voice broke the strange silence that had been permeating the atmosphere. She led two horses through the crowd, a shaky smile on her face, and made her way to Link and Zelda. Epona walked majestically on her right side, and a white gelding by the name of Flare walked on her left. Aside from Epona, Flare had grown the closest to Zelda during the past few months of her presence at the camp, and the princess had made it clear that he was the horse she would be taking.

"Here we go. Two clean, strong, well-fed horses," she smiled, handing Link and Zelda the reins of their respective horse. "And they better stay that way."

"Of course." Link managed a meek smile; to the rest of the camp, he seemed just as confident and courageous as ever. Even Malon could not pick up on the hint of his fear. Zelda was much too involved in her own mind to notice, and Sheik—though he could easily read the mind of his best friend—hid his own thoughts, as well.

"Be careful, Link." Malon gave Link a warm, encouraging hug, which he distractedly returned. Then the ranch hand turned to the princess. "Princess, it has been an honor spending these past few months with you. Please be careful, and make sure Link over here stays out of trouble," she winked. Zelda smiled nervously and hugged the girl that had come to be one of her best friends.

"Hey, you," Sheik whispered. He had approached Link from behind, and had his arm around his shoulders. "You stay focused, got it? It's not just your life on the line anymore."

He was speaking just quietly enough that nobody else could hear him, but to Link, his voice was too loud for comfort.

"...Got it."

"And Link?" His voice rose to an audible pitch. "Don't die, please."

"I'll try my best."

As Link stared into the shimmering red eyes of his best friend, he felt his heart skip a beat. He didn't know whether to shake Sheik's outstretched hand, or hug him, or not do anything at all. Luckily, he didn't have to do anything, because Sheik pulled him into an affectionate embrace. He repeated in Link's ear, "Don't die."

Sheik moved to Zelda. Before he could even open his mouth, she let a small whimper escape her lips and threw herself into his arms. Sheik was the closest thing she'd had to family ever since the attack at the castle. He held her tightly, gently shushing her and cradling the back of her head. Her face was buried in his neck, and Link watched with an awkward envy beginning to bubble up inside of him. There he was, Link's best friend, a friend to all...even the princess. He was paying such close attention that, beside Zelda, he was the only one could make out what Sheik said to Zelda.

"Trust him. Take care of him. And let him take care of you." The princess nodded and held onto Sheik for a few more precious moments.

"Be careful, please."

"We'll be waiting for you right here!"

"Good luck, we know you can do it!"

The voices and cheers of the Loyalists began to die down as Link and Zelda moved deeper into the forest.

"Where are we going first?" Zelda finally spoke. Her gaze was rigid, facing forward.

"Lake Hylia," he replied. "The Gorons will be more difficult to persuade, so we'll deal with Princess Laruto first."

"How long is the ride?"

"Two days, perhaps a two and a half."

"Is Castle Town on the way there? Or perhaps any kind of little village?"

"Kakariko, I believe."

"Can we stop there? I need to find newspapers. I need to know what's going on in my kingdom. I've had no idea for too long."

"Fine. Perhaps we can stay at the inn there."

"Very well."

Their conversation was tense—admittedly less tense than it once was. Their long nights in front of the fire, open books on their laps, had given them more comfort around one another. In this situation, though, no matter close they were, tension was inevitable. Link didn't want to say it, but he was thinking it. And he knew the princess was, too: there was the possibility of death on this journey if they failed.

But what Zelda didn't know, and what Link was determined to hide, was the fact that the Rebels were planning something as well. In fact, he was almost positive that they were going to cross paths with Rebels. He knew the Rebel leader well enough, and he knew his brilliant capabilities—Zelda didn't, and he wanted to keep it that way.

* * *

**Good? Maybe? Yes? No? Review please, and I really really hope that I'll be back sooner this time! I LOVE YOU ALL THANK YOU FOR BEING AMAZING AND INSPIRING PEOPLE :)**


	27. The Hylian Inquirer

**Here's the next chapter! It has a little bit of action in it, so** **I hope it's satisfactory! Enjoy, don't forget to leave your reviews and constructive criticism! I love you all =D**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Six: The Hylian Inquirer

Nabooru could hear Damita shifting in her bed while she sat, cross-legged, on the tent floor. The Gerudo had not been able to sleep, and had decided to make some last minute preparations for the journey at dawn. Damita, as usual, had under-packed, so Nabooru added everything she thought they would need. She knew this would be a long journey—both literally and metaphorically. To Lake Hylia, the trip was short, but it was an extremely tedious trek to Death Mountain. Both would be difficult to persuade; the Gorons and the Zoras had never particularly liked the Rebels. They had remained loyal to the Royal Family, and Nabooru had no idea how they were to convince them to prepare for war against the monarchy. And if what Ganondorf said was true, then Link was on his way to do the same, which made their mission much more difficult.

That wasn't the reason Nabooru couldn't sleep. She had come up against situations such as this. What she was worried about was Damita. She had been distracted lately, and could barely manage to carry out assassinations she once could with her eyes closed. Even worse, Nabooru knew that Ganondorf had a plan; he always had a plan. She was frightened for Damita and what the Rebel leader might do to her. Above all, Nabooru worried about Link. Perhaps even running into him...Damita would crumble.

Nabooru believed the entire situation to be humorously ironic. She knew that Damita would never do anything to hurt Link. She still loved him too much, and wouldn't let herself do that. Yet the assassin firmly believed that, given the chance, Link would take everything from her. And Link felt the exact same way: it was a cycle in which neither wanted to confront the other, for fear that they would either die or be forced to kill.

Should she get the chance, Nabooru wanted to kill Link. If the situation were to arise, however, she wasn't sure if she would be able to. Just as Sheik had left Damita alive for Link's sake, Nabooru might leave Link alive for Damita's sake.

"Gah!"

Frustrated with the situation, Nabooru threw her bag to the ground and ran her hands along her face.

_Can't she just get over him already? She's going to ruin everything._

Nabooru paused for a moment, and her face slowly fell.

_She will move past it. Just like I had to._

* * *

Zelda didn't normally have trouble organizing her thoughts. But when she and Link dismounted their horses in Kakariko Village, she could barely comprehend her own mind. Before entering the village, Zelda had lifted the hood of her cape to conceal her face, and was no longer the princess—in fact, she was not even a refugee anymore. Her role was now Link's dumb cousin, incapable of speech since birth.

"What do we say if anybody asks me why I put the hood up?" she had asked him.

"Just tell them you don't feel comfortable around strangers. These people don't usually care enough to pry."

Zelda looked around her as Link tied the horses outside of the Kakariko Inn, and memories began rushing back at the sight of sturdy houses, fleeting conversations, and the orange ground. She recalled walking these streets with her father as the civilians lined up around them, clapping and screaming, "Long live the King! Long live the Princess!" Her mother had, of course, been sick in bed. Zelda had been about six years old. She could not remember why her father had taken her on that trip; all she remembered was his perfect way of communicating with people, his perfect way of being a king. They had loved him so much.

"Zelda, keep your bow and arrows with Flare," Link instructed, jarring her from her nostalgia.

"What? Why? I don't feel comfortable without them," she replied. Link clenched his jaw and sighed.

"Princess, I need you to trust me," he said. "I won't let anything happen to you."

For a moment, Zelda was taken aback by the warmth in his voice, and simply stared. The corner of his lip twitched into a crooked smile, and as if controlled by an outside force, Zelda put her bow back onto Flare's saddle. The sun was only peeking above the horizon and was slowly sinking. They had arrived exactly when Link predicted they would.

"Good evening," the man at the inn's reception greeted. "How may I, um, help you?" He was looking at Zelda with an odd expression, but she ignored it.

"A room for two, please," Link replied.

"How many nights?"

"One."

"Names?"

"Hanch and Sera."

"Here are the keys to your room."

Zelda, before Link had a chance to grab the keys, nudged him in the side. When he looked over at her, she threw him an eager glance, one that only he could discern beneath the hood.

"Oh, and a newspaper please."

Armed with their knapsacks, rusting keys, and a crumpled newspaper, they made their way up the rickety stairs to their room. Link opened the door for Zelda, and as soon as it was closed, she lowered the hood and took a deep breath.

"Finally, a real room," she sighed. She hadn't realized how nice the bed would feel after months of sleeping on a mattress inside of a tent. Ignoring Link's eyes on her, she slipped off of her cloak and crawled onto the bed. By habit, she grabbed the pillow and hugged it to her chest. She almost expected to breathe the scent of her own bed when she inhaled the dusty fabric. Link calmly walked over to the crumpled cloak at the floor and put it on the bed.

"I'll put the newspaper on the nightstand for you, Princess," he said.

"Link." Zelda's eyes opened, and she sat up. "Do you want to read it with me tonight? It would be good practice."

"Um..." He shuffled uneasily, but Zelda maintained her exuberant gaze. "I think I'm going to skip tonight."

"Oh," she pursed her lips, "okay then. Whatever you need. And please, just call me Zelda. You've known me long enough. Hand me my knapsack, if you would."

With a curt nod, he placed the knapsack in her outstretched hands. Her stomach churned at the blank expression on his face. The shell still seemed as hard as rock. She had hoped that she had made progress with him, but he was still so closed off; if not to anybody else, especially to Zelda. It was almost enough to bring tears to her eyes, but she kept the composure.

"I'm going to go to the bar across the street," he announced. "I need a drink."

"Very well," she shrugged as she took out the book from her knapsack. "Don't stay out too late."

He nodded again—that infamous, detached nod—and left the room. As soon as the door closed, Zelda's face scrunched up in dismay. She could almost feel the iciness. Just recently, things had begun to change between the two of them. A certain comradery had developed. Even a little bit of warmth. As soon as they had mounted their horses, however, he had regained that same composure she had seen when first meeting him.

_Maybe it's me,_ she wondered. _I was acting a bit distant after what happened last night._

She opened her book and found herself staring into the picture, right where she had left it. It was of the boy smiling brightly at the camera with his hand resting affectionately on his horse's neck. She couldn't help but smile back at him, this photographed, mystery boy who looked chillingly like Link. Expectantly, she looked at the back of her right hand: nothing. Pouting, she closed the book with the picture inside it, put it aside, and grabbed the newspaper. In the long, flowing, and sturdy dress that Malon had made her, she sat cross-legged on the bed and opened the newspaper. As soon as she started reading, she knew it was going to be a rough night.

* * *

The waitress, with a coquettish smile, placed the mug onto Link's table.

"Enjoy," she winked. He could not even manage a slight grin back at her. With relief, he brought the mug to his lips and thirstily swallowed. The drink was not the heavy kind he was used to back at camp, but it would do in clearing his mind for the night. He could not remember the last time he had sat alone at a bar, trying to comprehend his own thoughts. He imagined Zelda, lost in her newspaper across the street, and actually chuckled. Something about her eagerness for knowledge allured him. There she was, expanding her mind, while he sat drinking away his problems.

_At least not as much as those guys,_ he thought, staring a table full of rowdy men. They were slapping each other's backs, screaming, laughing, loudly clanking their mugs together. All he had to do was look at their bloodshot eyes to know how drunk they were. He found himself wishing that Sheik were there to share the drink and laugh at the men with him.

_Hey look, they're even more out of it then you are, Linkipoo,_ he would say. With another inner smile, Link took a gulp.

Suddenly, there was silence. A draft drifted into the room, and from his drink, Link looked up at the door. Two people had just walked in, and every single pair of eyes was now on them. One was a ragged young man with messy brown hair and beady, piercing eyes. There was a grin on his face, and one eyebrow remained constantly raised. Beside him stood a ravishing woman, wearing a tight red dress revealing her navel and a low-cut (extremely low-cut) collar. Link practically spit up his drink. The girl had mischievous yellow eyes and sparkling red hair.

_I should've guessed this would happen..._

One of the men at the crazy table whistled. The woman's eyes darted dangerously around the room, and she threw the table a menacing glare. The man beside her, in a combination of protection and demand, grabbed her arm and led her to the front of the bar, where they took their seats at the counter. The conversations were beginning to rise again. Link's wide eyes were still fixed on the couple, which simply seemed to radiate danger.

_There are bound to be more._

Dropping a few coins on the table, Link stood up from the table as quietly and inconspicuously as he possibly could. Unfortunately, the flirtatious waitress had just approached his table.

"Oh come on now," she crooned, "what kind of tip is that?"

He knew she expected him to be drunk, and he caught himself before exploding in her face to get out of his way. Before he could say anything at all, her sharp nails were grabbing his collar and pulling him closer.

"I definitely expect more than that," she whispered, directly in his ear. He shuddered, but continued to tell himself that he needed to get out of there.

"Excuse me, but I need to—"

"Need to what?" she pouted. "You must have a couple more minutes, right?"

"No, I really—"

"'ey!" Link was suddenly pushed away, and he stumbled against the table behind him. It was one of the drunken men.

_Great. Now he's going to make a scene._

"'ands off, punk. This un's mine."

"Oh please," the waitress scoffed.

"You can have her," Link said hastily, and began moving toward the entrance. The two people at the counter still had not noticed him.

"You ain't gettin' away that easy!" the man cried.

"Shh, sir, please, don't scream—"

The man pushed the table aside and grabbed Link's lapel, yanking upwards harshly. He brought his rank face inches from Link's, and he could smell his breath, heavy with alcohol, against his skin.

"Come on!" He began to drunkenly shake Link, who was growing more anxious by the second. "Face meh like a man!"

"I have to go, sir, so if you could just put me down..."

"Put ya down? PUT YA DOWN?"

At that point, the man's practically incomprehensible screaming had attracted the attention of all of the customers. Every single one. Link caught the eye of the red-haired woman for a single second, and his stomach lurched at the devious glint that appeared in her yellow irises. Without warning, the man lifted his fist and swung at Link, who was still in his grasp.

With an agile tilt of his head, the fist just barely missed.

_Bad at hand to hand combat? We'll see about that, Sheik._

Before the man could make sense of what was happening, Link had cupped his hands around the man's neck and harshly kneed him in the stomach. Blindly, the man, who was now coughing and had let go of Link, swung his beefy arm. Barely blinking, Link lifted his arm to block, twisted the man's wrist, and waited for the scream. When it came, Link swiftly forced the man to the ground with another knee and ran as fast as he possibly could to the front door. As he slipped out of the bar, leaving behind a commotion, he caught a glimpse of the pair staring at him, and he started to run even faster.

The life of Kakariko Village was beginning to fade in the darkness of the night when Link rushed outside. The blast of cold air was surprising after the warm, heavy air of the bar inside, but Link did not take a single second to admire his surroundings or even take a breath. He ran straight to the inn across the street, rushing up the creaky wooden stairs. The man at the counter, startled by the banging of the door, stared at Link with wide eyes.

"Sir, is there anything—"

"No, no." Link did not even glance at the man, but skipped up the stairs toward the room. Heart pounding, sweat running, and mind racing, Link stopped in front of the door and reached into his pocket for the keys. Then his heart stopped pounding. It stopped beating altogether; his pockets were empty.

_Why am I so stupid? How could I let myself be so unprepared?_

He wiggled the knob with the small hope that Zelda had left it unlocked. He was not surprised to find that it was not. He resorted to knocking loudly on the door, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds at the front door of the inn. He could simply sense the danger approaching. After a few moments of solid knocking, Link began worrying. The princess was not answering the door. He shakily put his cheek against the wood, attempting to look through the small creak.

_Princess...!_

He heard the door in the lobby open, but couldn't bring himself to look back.

* * *

The blood had completely drained from Zelda's face, and the energy from the rest of her body, by the time she was finished reading the newspaper. She wasn't sure if she just couldn't correctly remember the style of the newspaper writers, or if these types of rumors truly were spreading through her beloved Hyrule. The angry ones, those who were beginning to lose loyalty in the Royal Family, had begun to take over the public media. The entire newspaper was filled with conspiracies against Zelda and her ancestors. _The Hylian Inquirer_ had once been the most prestigious, the most credible newspaper in all of Hyrule. In her absence, it had transformed into the very essence of bitterness toward the Royal Family. The headlines made her cringe.

_Princess runs away from her own problems?_

_ Search parties still have found nothing—is she still among us?_

_ Princess abandons her people._

_ Kidnapped citizens still to be found._

Throwing it aside, Zelda lay on her back and stared dizzily at the ceiling.

She had run away from her problems. She had let the Loyalists take her, feed her, train her, keep her safe while her kingdom fell apart.

She prayed to the goddesses that this newspaper did not reflect the popular outlook of her people. Surely they believed in her...or at least believed that she was dead.

"They can't think I abandoned them," she mused, "can they?"

In the midst of her frustrated thinking, exhaustion began to take over. She kept throwing glances at the door, hoping that Link might come in and save her from the piercing loneliness. Before he could, she drifted into a slumber heavy with sadness, fear, and anxiety. She did not even see the key that Link had forgotten by the door before she fell asleep.


	28. The Door

**Well, here I am again, as fast as I could get here. I put a lot into this, and I hope it's getting as intense as you guys want it to be! I assure you that the plot will pick up, and it will pick up fast ;) Enjoy, and pray that my next hiatus isn't so long!**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Door

"Please open, please open, please open," Link mumbled to himself. He kept jarring the knob, hoping that maybe by some miracle, the next one would wake up the princess. Or perhaps the next one...or the one after that...

"Hello," he heard the receptionist say. "Is there anything I can—?"

The sweat slipped down Link's red cheeks, and as he heard the footsteps coming up the stairs, painfully slowly, he paused for a moment. He leaned his forehead against the uneven wood of the door, let the ideas for which he was so famous race through his head and intertwine in attempts to form coherent thoughts. Something kept them from doing so—what worried Link the most was the fact that he usually worked best under pressure. But as the footsteps grew closer, his mind grew foggier.

Zelda's face clouded everything. His inherent need, his inherent desire to protect her clouded everything.

"There you are."

That silky, sensual voice clicked his mind into gear. A perfect visual of the hotel room entered his head. And he could hear the creaking of the hinges when they'd first opened the door resonate in his pounding ears.

He turned around the face his pursuers.

"Here I am."

They stood beside each other and they looked so comfortable that they could've been taking a stroll in the park, and their expressions would have been the same. There was no tension in their bodies, and when they moved, it was with the effortlessness of a flowing river. It seemed to Link that they were in no rush...that they were convinced that they had him outnumbered.

_It's a shame the big chief didn't tell you not to underestimate me._

Link saw their body language, analyzed scrupulously the softness of their faces, and knew exactly what to do. His skills had already landed him the top spot in the Loyalist camp, and the only way these two were going to get the better of him would be if they were even more cunning.

But they wouldn't be.

"You know," the man grinned, "things would be so much easier if you just showed us the princess." He stepped forward while the girl snickered and flicked her hair over her bronze shoulder.

"They would be, wouldn't they?" Link pressed his back against the door and rapped his fingers against it.

"Where is she?" he continued. "We're not silly enough to think that you would be hiding her in that hotel room. Do you think we're stupid?" They laughed.

_Oh. Well that's advantageous._

"You know, I honestly thought I could trick you." Link shook his head. "I suppose not."

"Where is she?" the girl said. At that moment, Link saw the sword at her hip, and he could feel his battle instincts kicking in. He couldn't help but smile.

"Where's who?"

The two Rebels looked at each other, narrowed their eyes, and gave approving nods. They both drew swords at that moment, and even though Link had no weapons, he knew he had already won.

"Just show us, and we can take you both alive," the man said. Link remained silent and still against the door.

The girl snarled impatiently, took a leap forward and swung her sword. At this, Link smiled widely and ducked, letting her blade embed itself into the thick wood. Now he knew the girl had a temper.

_Temper._

"Alive?" He raised his eyebrows. "And for how long?"

As the girl tried desperately to free her weapon, her partner inched closer to Link. Both hands were on the hilt of his sword, held out in front of him, and he had a bloodthirsty expression on his face. Link sidled across the wall, making his movements so subtle that they were barely noticeable. He was moving away from the door, toward the end of the hall. The floor creaked beneath his feet, but the man's eyes were fixed dangerously on Link's face. Now Link knew that he wasn't aware of his surroundings.

_Unaware of his surroundings. _

Link kept inching, and even when the man swung his sword vertically downwards, one slide to his right left Link unscathed. The man growled and swung again, only to meet a similar result. By this time, the girl was by his side, baring her teeth and prepared to attack alongside her partner. Link just smiled.

"What are you waiting for?"

Obeying his command, practically kneeling and kissing his feet, the two swung their swords at the same moment. Link crouched to his knees, rolled beneath their slices, and cringed as their swords collided—just as he'd thought they would. The girl screamed in surprise and anger, and the man simply stared at his hands in surprise. Link hopped back to his feet and threw a glance at the door to his room. It was still closed, there was still darkness beneath it, but he was satisfied with the distance he had gained. Before putting his plan into motion, he wanted to experiment a little bit more...find more weaknesses.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat. They turned to face him, as if remembering that he was there. Knowing that the girl (with her temper) would attack first, Link prepared himself. Just as he had predicted, she leaped into the air and swung her sword with strength pouring from anger. As he sidestepped, he grabbed her wrist, twisted the sword from her arm, and trapped her in his grasp.

"Nice try," he said. At that moment, he glared at the man with a condescending expression. What he saw set his plan into motion. The man's face had grown a deep, wrathful shade of red, and his hands trembled on the hilt of his sword.

"Let go of her!" he shrieked, and pounced with nothing but emotion pushing him forward. Link easily bent out of harm's way, dragging the girl with him. She was squirming, and he knew that if he were to move her even a little bit from her current, twisted position, she would easily slip out of his grip. He would have to be careful with this portion of the plan; Gerudos were unfairly stealthy. He'd had his fair share of practice with Nabooru—then again, this girl was nothing compared to her.

Now he knew that the man was protective.

_Protective. There we go._

The floors were creaking ominously beneath their feet, but Link knew that they wouldn't be paying attention. The girl was too frustrated trying to pull out of Link's grasp, and the man was too blinded by fear and anger to notice anything. Everything was perfect. They were unaware of everything.

The plan had to go through some last minute changes, however, when Zelda threw open the door.

* * *

When Zelda fell asleep, she had a dream. This one was different, because she hadn't had it before. For the past couple of nights, she'd been having the same dreams: ones of her father, her people, the citizens of Hyrule stumbling through the chaos, images of herself abandoning everybody. They were always exactly the same and the product of her racing thoughts, constantly asking why she had allowed herself to desert Castle Town. That evening was different, but it was a welcome change...

_Zelda stands in front of a mirror in a black room. The only light shines where she stands. She looks into her own eyes and sees them sparkle with the reflections of her ancestors. The queens and the princesses and the heroines that came before her and left the legacy that she is now continuing. The golden crown sits on her head as if it has always been there, fitting perfectly on the blonde curls. Her face is the same...but it is different. It is no longer simply her own. It is the face of Zelda: every Zelda. She is the queen and ruler, the one that Hyrule has been waiting for, the true descendant who can carry on her true destiny. She is beautiful, and she wears the traditional dress of the coronation ceremony that has been worn for hundreds of years. Her smile is proud and confident. She is satisfied with what she sees—she could not expect anything else of herself. This is what her people want and this is what she wants. _

_ A figure, enshrouded in the darkness behind her, steps into the light around the mirror. It puts its hands on Zelda's shoulders and whispers her name. Then Link's face comes into view. She stares at him in the mirror and her smile grows wider as he squeezes her shoulders just a little bit. He says her name again, and she closes her eyes and just listens to his voice, feels his breath on the back of her neck. His fingers trace down from her shoulders, her arms, to her gloved fingers, and lace themselves through. He says her name again. _

_ "Zelda...The Princess Zelda..." _

_ She opens her eyes to look at him once more in the mirror. He is smiling back at her while his face is nearly glimmering in the golden light. Everything about him is perfect. Then he gently drops her hands and steps forward beside her. Zelda examines him in the green tunic, the one that her Nana had given her. He looks perfect in it. _

_ "Link," she says. Her voice resonates with generations of others. "The hero." _

_ "Your hero." He kneels. "Your hero, Princess Zelda..."_

Zelda was awakened by a soft rapping at the door. It sounded like the light, nonchalant tapping of fingertips, back on forth on the wood.

For the first time in months, she didn't wake up in a sweat. She simply...woke up. The images in her head were a bit fuzzy when she closed her eyes, but each time, the darkness faded a little more and they became clearer. When she thought about the dream, though, positive energy surrounded her, and she found herself smiling for a reason that she couldn't exactly pinpoint. Some obscure light deep within her had just begun sparkling, and she felt it growing into something bigger. Her heart was beating with a sacred premonition. She knew at that moment that the dream had been a prophecy; it hadn't been like the other dreams. She hadn't had a prophecy since Nana's death.

The tapping stopped after only a few moments. Out of the corner of her eye, Zelda saw the newspaper she had cast aside. To avoid looking at it, she kicked it to the ground and out of the sight of her drowsy eyes, still getting accustomed to the light.

Just then, she noticed the key on the desk.

_Link probably forgot it,_ she mused. Then she thought that perhaps he was waiting for her to open the door—perhaps he was the one who had been tapping. Cursing herself for falling asleep and leaving him out there, she stood with the key and walked to the door. With the goal of either finding Link or simply letting him back inside, she opened it.

The first thing Zelda saw was Link's back. Then he turned around and she saw the girl struggling in his arms. Finally, she saw the man posed to attack with a sword in his hand. Suddenly, all eyes were on her and Link was screaming.

"_Close the door!"_

For a moment, she was too stunned. She simply stared.

"What is—?"

"CLOSE IT!"

With a hazy mind, she did what Link said and slammed the door shut. Then, feeling light-headed, she leaned back against it and tried to steady her breathing.

_What did Link get himself into...?_

Zelda's drowsy mind could not completely comprehend what she had seen. Two people, one struggling in Link's grasp and one ready to attack him, had been outside of the room. Link was...fighting them. Alone. And the expression on his face had been one of surprise, making it clear that he had not been expecting Zelda to open the door. The way he had screamed at her made her cringe.

Then, she realized that instead of standing idly contemplating Link's tone of voice, she should've been doing something to help. But Link had told her to close the door. Hoping for something, she leaned her ear against the chafing wood in an attempt to make out what was going on outside.

* * *

Link's plan could still work—he just had to improvise a little bit.

"The princess...she, she's in there!" the man stuttered as Zelda slammed the door. The Gerudo had practically gone still in Link's arms from surprise, and Link backed up against the door.

_Perfect time to wake up, Princess._

The man lifted his sword and ran toward the door, ready to ram it down. Working completely off of the instinctive machinations of his quick mind, Link jumped in front of the door and held the girl out.

"Come now," he crooned as the man stopped. "You wouldn't kill her just to get to the princess...would you?"

The man's expression suddenly became one of horrible inner conflict. The girl had started kicking again, and was screaming, "No, do it! You have to!"

In the midst of the chaos, Link leaned his cheek against the door.

"Zelda?"

"Link! I'm here!"

"Pack up all of the stuff and open the window," he whispered.

"What?"

"Just _do_ it!"

He pressed more tightly against the door. The man's face was now red, and the girl was struggling more furiously than ever. She scratched and kicked and bit, but Link was barely fazed. Her partner (and evidently her lover) raised his sword once more.

"I will do what I have to do," he said.

Link paused.

_Shit._

The Rebel ran toward the two of them. Link could see in the lustful sparkle in his eyes that he meant to kill, and he would not hesitate. Link's mind switched modes at once. He sidestepped to the right, and the sword thrust through the thick wood of the door. Zelda's startled scream caused a small shudder to run through Link's body. Just as he expected, the door didn't break down, but the man was distracted just long enough. As quickly as he could, Link threw the girl to the ground and with an agile leap, grabbed her sword, which was still lying on the floor where he had attacked her. It wasn't the strongest or heavy weapon...but Link could manage.

By the time the man had taken his sword from the door and was ready to attack again, Link was ready as well. He jumped in front of the door and brought the sword up, smiling at the familiar sight of sparks. Before the man could comprehend what had happened, Link pushed him backwards and swung again, to be met with a hasty and careless parry. At this point, Link was actually enjoying himself.

_How much time is Zelda going to need?_

He swung again—this time, the man was even less ready, and found himself nearly toppling down the stairs to the lobby. Link narrowed his eyes, smiled a menacing and bloodthirsty smile, and took one more step forward. The man fell. Link couldn't take the time to relish in the sight because the sound of the girl, once again on her feet, kicking at the door pulled him from his victory. As he snarled and prepared to approach her, he could already hear the sounds of the man trying to get back up the stairs.

Link watched for a few moments. The door was coming apart beneath her blows, especially after the man's nasty jab. Bu he stood still and continued watching.

_Keep going._

It reached its breaking point.

With a scream, Link raised the sword and ran...right toward the door.

He plowed through it and kept running. Zelda stood at the window with a frightened look and wide eyes. She was holding the bags that they had brought with them and waiting obediently.

Before she could even manage a surprised scream, Link grabbed her waist and ran out of the open window. That was when she screamed.

"To the horses!" he shouted. The jump turned out to be even shorter than he had anticipated; nevertheless, Zelda was clinging to him hopelessly. He bent his knees as he landed, and watched worriedly as the princess tripped and fell on her face.

"Get up! To the horses!"

He helped her stand up, and together they ran around to the horses. They loaded their things at the speed of light, mounted, and galloped out of Kakariko Village.

**So I realize the fight scene wasn't totally realistic...but bear with me please. I'm a bit rusty! Leave your comments and constructive criticisms for me to read and enjoy :3**


	29. The Bridge

**Chapter Twenty-Eight! See, that absence wasn't so long. I hope you all enjoy it :)**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Bridge

Damita's only goal on the road to Lake Hylia was to remain focused. This was an important mission—an extremely important one, and for her to allow it to end in another disaster would surely mean death for her...and the rebellion's failure. As a Rebel leader, she was not about to let their efforts, which had gone on for decades, crumble to ash in her fingers. And all because of the memories and the useless emotions that were keeping her from thinking straight. Nabooru was clearly fed up with her as well. The entire camp was. More than once, the idea of Link and the sight of him had kept her from doing her job and supporting the common goal: dethrone the Royal Family.

"Nabooru." Damita finally broke the silence as she and the Gerudo rode the hogs to the edge of the desert, where they would dive into Lake Hylia.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry."

Nabooru turned to look at her, narrowing her eyes incredulously. Damita could not make eye contact and stared down at the thick neck of the animal beneath her.

"Damita, it's okay. We all have our moments...our weaknesses."

"Mine is becoming too much of a burden. Not just on me, but on everybody."

Nabooru laughed heartily and nodded, in an evident attempt to lighten the mood. Nabooru was not one to easily hold a grudge...though it was always a possibility.

"I was just thinking last night about it, actually," she said. "And I have to admit I was worried about you."

"You..._were_ worried?"

"But you see, I'm not anymore. You and I are very similar, Damita, in a lot of ways. Simply based on experience, I have no doubt that you'll overcome this," she offered. "Trust me."

"But Nabooru, you and I are different in a lot of ways, too," Damita argued. "In so many ways."

"We're both strong," she murmured, "especially in the face of men who try to mess with our hearts."

Damita paused and chewed over Nabooru's words. This woman had inspired her, and her advice meant the world to her. Perhaps she was right, and Damita would be able to finally leap over this obstacle. Different memories were now mixing with the ones already implanted her brain. She saw herself entering the camp, finding Nabooru and Telma to be her only friends, watching as the master began to take a liking to her...spending nights in the desert listening to the stories, creating everlasting friendships, being able to fight for what she truly believed in. Those memories now accompanied the scarring ones brimming with Link's beautiful, smiling face. She tried to let the new ones overcome the old ones.

"Nabooru, can do you me a favor?"

"Anything, darling."

"I think it might help me if you told me what happened..." she said. She suddenly found herself having trouble asking the question that had been on her mind for so long. "...What happened between you and Ganondorf."

The pause that followed was the kind that made Damita wish she could immediately take back her words. But they were out there, and Nabooru should have known they were coming sooner or later. Knowing that Nabooru, one of her role modes, had gone through something extremely similar, Damita needed all of the help she could get. They had plenty of time before reaching Lake Hylia, anyway.

"It's a long story—"

"We have time."

Nabooru studied Damita's expression for a couple of moments, and then her face finally broke into a light smile.

"All right, since you're so determined. And who knows, it might actually help."

"Start from the very beginning." Damita could barely contain her excitement. And she could see that this was what Nabooru needed...and what she had been needing for a while.

"It started when we were children, and Ganondorf realized he was going to be the Rebel leader one day. When everything suddenly became too real."

* * *

"How much longer until we reach the entrance of Lake Hylia?" Zelda asked.

"We'll be there by evening."

"Why couldn't we have just talked to the Gorons first? Kakariko Village is at the base of Death Mountain, correct?"

"Correct. But it would be easier to stop there on our way back."

His reasoning still made no sense to Zelda, but she accepted it and was silent. They had said nothing to each other about the ordeal that had occurred at the inn, but questions were still racing through Zelda's mind. She steeled herself; she would keep her lips closed about it until they were inside of their tent. Then she would take the opportunity to ask him all of her questions about those Rebels and perhaps explain the dream she had had. So Zelda thought about the journey ahead and attempted to feel excited about the reunion with her friend, Laruto. Happiness was a difficulty at that point.

"Link?"

"Yes?"

"Won't we have to go through Castle Town to get to Lake Hylia?"

"No."

"We...we won't?"

"No. We can't risk anybody recognizing you. It would be chaos."

"Right, but—"

"I know a shortcut. But..." He cast an anxious glance at her. "You're going to have to trust me."

"Very well." She couldn't look into his eyes for more than a few moments and nervously looked down at the neck of her horse. The thoughts in her brain were now tangled beyond reparation and she was forced to sit through her own nonsense and babbling. Unrealistic scenarios, conspiracies, questions, theories, all were running through her head at once. The darkness made everything even more difficult, but Zelda could see the sun peeking up over the horizon.

"Are we going to stop and rest?"

"...Are you tired?" His voice was as cold as the night breeze.

"No."

Link looked over at her incredulously as she played with the tangled mane of her horse. She could feel her shoulders slouching, her eyelids drooping, and the coherency of her thoughts beginning to fade. They had been riding for hours after their escape.

"Will there be more of them, Link?"

"Yes. And stopping during the day isn't safe."

"So we keep going."

"Yes."

Instead of responding, Zelda pressed her lips together and stared straight ahead. Link was the leader—if he wanted to keep going, then they were to keep going. She ran through that idea over and over again, trying to make herself believe it, but she could not hold back the urge to tell him that she was tired. She wanted to stop, make a fire, and sleep. And she wanted the chance to ask him questions in an atmosphere in which he could not avoid them. Finally, the words slipped out, and the question came rushing.

"How did they find us?"

"We weren't cautious enough."

"What do you—?"

"And the Rebel leader knows our plan."

"He...he _what?_"

"They saw me at the bar. And they recognized me, and they were looking for you," he said. He sounded ashamed, acknowledging the fact that he had actually made a mistake. Zelda quickly understood what he was saying.

"But they would not have been there or known that I was there unless..."

"Unless they had been ordered and trained."

Link looked at her, and she saw genuine fear in his eyes.

"Ganondorf knows. And for the first time...he is one step ahead."

They rode on for the entire day without stopping, but they pushed their horses at a walk. Zelda tried to make conversation with Link, simply to keep herself from falling asleep at that point, but he seemed closed-off. He was deep in thought, already planning their encounter with the Zoras and how they were to gain their trust. Zelda herself was not worried; she could remember the days of her childhood when, during a meeting between Laruto's mother and Zelda's father, the two of them would play in the lake or run around in Hyrule Castle. They would laugh, imagine, and nurture their friendship. Now, they were political allies as well, and Zelda fully trusted that Laruto would honor their alliance...as well as their strong friendship. And she was positive that no matter what they were to encounter at Lake Hylia, Laruto would remain loyal. Zelda simply didn't realize that Link was not worried about convincing the Zoras, or even the Gorons—he was worried about something completely different.

* * *

The road to Lake Hylia through Castle Town was dangerous, but Link knew of a bridge that led to it, a bridge that was a good distance away from the castle village. Zelda had never seen or heard of the bridge, but she figured that Link knew the geography of Hyrule much better than she did. He had travelled it countless times, no doubt. So she followed him without many questions about the destination, and he continuously assured her that they would reach the bridge before nightfall—he had obviously noticed how exhausted the princess was. She pinched herself to stay awake, and counted the trees and the travelers that they passed. There were others on the road, embarking on journeys of various types. Some were merchants, some adventurers, some scholars, and some were simple civilians returning to family. None of them batted an eyelash at the odd pair making its way toward the bridge.

"We have to stop here," Link suddenly said.

"I don't see a bridge anywhere."

"Exactly. We have to leave our horses here, and we have to be careful. If Ganondorf is as ahead as I think he is, he'll have Rebels waiting for us there. We have to walk from here. Take your bow, and I'll take my sword, but that's it," he explained. Zelda stared at him, dumbfounded.

"What about all of our supplies? Won't it get stolen?"

"Honestly, it has never happened to me before," he shrugged as he dismounted, "but it's a risk we have to take at this point."

He held his hand out without even a mere hint of a smile, and Zelda placed her hand in it and let him help her off of her horse. She strapped her bow and quiver to her back and began tying Flare's reins around the nearest tree.

"Princess, you can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because. If people do show up wanting to steal...the horses won't be able to run."

"You would let them _run?_" Zelda was becoming more and more confused by the moment. Link sighed and stroked Epona's neck.

"Don't worry. They'll be fine. And Epona and I always find each other."

His blue eyes suddenly started sparkling as the mare nuzzled his cheek, and he ran his fingers through her silky red coat. Zelda smiled. She could sense the depth of the relationship, and she wasn't so worried anymore. She trusted them.

"Very well then. Lead the way to your bridge."

After about forty-five minutes of walking along a path, Link led her off of it, through a field covered in flowers and weeds and different trees. It seemed to Zelda that nobody had walked through this field in years, but she stayed silent. She had promised herself that she would trust Link. He trusted her enough to bring her along with him, so the least she could do was follow him. Finally, when Link pointed it out to her, Zelda saw the arches of a stone bridge in the distance. As they came closer, she could see how narrow it was, and the archway at the entrance was practically in ruins.

"Link, are you sure—?"

He interrupted her by suddenly placing his hand over her mouth and jumping behind the nearest tree, shushing her. Zelda squirmed a bit, attempted to pull his fingers from her lips, but eventually succumbed and leaned back against the tree. Her heart was still beating more quickly than was safe when he lifted his hand.

"What was that for?" she said.

"SHH! Please, whisper..."

"Why? What in Nayru's name is going _on?_"

"Look over at the bridge, Princess."

Link was leaning back against the tree, peeking around the trunk and staring at the bridge. Zelda guessed that he hadn't realized that his hands were still protectively holding her around the waist. She decided not to say anything about it. So, frightened but curious, she followed his gaze to the bridge. What she saw slowed the rapid beating of her heart to a full stop. She couldn't even swallow.

_Link was right._

There were three soldiers walking along the bridge, but they were not wearing the uniforms of the Royal Castle Guard. They were hardly wearing uniforms at all. On the other side of the bridge, stationed at the top of the decorative pillars, were four archers.

"I told you," he sighed in exasperation, "Ganondorf is ready. He knew he would come this way."

"Link..."

"How could I have been so _stupid?_ If I had realized, I would've been able to plan everything out."

"We still have time," Zelda reassured. She felt his grip tightening around her, and could physically sense his anxiety. He was not happy, and that made her nervous. "Once we reach Lake Hylia, you can plan as much as you want. But right now, we have to worry about this." She realized that she sounded much calmer than she felt.

"Okay. Well..."

"Link, look." She noticed something that almost made her choke on her own words. "The archers...look at their arrows."

"They're fire arrows."

"Yes."

"One shot from a fire arrow and you're dead," he agreed. He turned back around and leaned his head against the trunk of the tree. "We can't afford to let them see us. I could easily take out the guards, but if the archers notice—which they will—we're dead."

"What if...we killed the archers first?"

Link looked at her as if she had suggested that they commit suicide. Zelda knew that it wasn't because her idea was bad, but because he had been thinking the same thing. And he hadn't thought that Zelda was clever enough. She tried not to act insulted.

"If we can shoot them from afar, then you can go in and kill the guards."

"You're right," he agreed, slowly. She ignored the fact that the words had trouble slipping from his lips. "Okay, give me your bow."

"What?"

"It's better if I do it. I've been an archer longer. I'm faster, and if we miss, then we're done for."

Zelda stared at him with her most icy glare. He furrowed his brow, and she felt his grip loosen. Finally, she grinned, and handed him her bow.

"You're right. We only have one shot for each archer."

Link stared at her with a confused expression as she looked around, and finally, her eyes fell on the perfect target. There was an apple tree at just the perfect distance.

"Link. Stand up and shoot that apple."

"That one?"

"No. That one. All the way over there. It's about the same distance as the archers, right? And about as small as the space we have if we want to shoot them straight in the heart."

Link's expression became one of obscured exasperation as he realized that what Zelda was saying was true. Without a word, he stood up and (still without realizing the position he had been in) unwrapped his arms from around Zelda's waist. He nocked an arrow, as expertly as she would expect, and pulled back the string. Then, he aimed and let the arrow fly.

He missed.

"There," Zelda sighed. "Now we're dead. Satisfied?" She made sure that her expression was as smug as possible when he looked down at her. Finally, she could pay him back for all of the similar looks that she had given him. And now she could prove that she was not a burden.

"Here, give me the bow, and let me show you," she said as she stood up. She took the exact same spot that Link had been in, and went through the motions that had now become completely natural for her. She nocked the arrow, pulled it back, and aimed. She closed her left eye, made sure that the apple was the center of her vision, and pulled the arrow back just the right amount. Then, she released and watched with the sweet taste of satisfaction as it stabbed the apple and sent it to the ground. She had hit it perfectly. Then, just for safe measure, she shot the apple right next to it as well, with just as good of a result. The look on Link's face was more than enough to satisfy the princess. She had proven herself. Now, he was forced to listen to her.

"Now, I'm going to shoot the archers," she explained, "and then once they've fallen, you go in and kill the guards."

"Right, but Zelda," he interrupted. She couldn't remember him ever having called her Zelda in that tone of voice. Everything about him had become a bit softer, and it threw her off.

"...What?"

"Will you be able to kill them?"

"Link, I just showed you that my skills with a bow are perfect! Do you need more proof?" She couldn't hold back that anger.

"No, that's not what I mean," he said. The worried expression made her heart sink as she started to understand. "I mean...will you be able to take someone's life?"

Zelda didn't know how to respond.


	30. Jump

**Well, I've graduated high school...AND IT'S SUMMER! That means more updates! Once more, I sincerely apologize for taking so long between updates; I personally know how annoying that can be when reading a story. I do hope you guys keep reading, because now I have a lot more time to write! Thank you, I love you all.**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Jump

She couldn't stand the look on his face. It made her inwardly squirm in discomfort. He looked worried, doubtful, uncertain. For a second, Zelda searched for fear, but he had become accustomed to hiding it well. She stared down at her bow and realized that her hands were trembling. Then she closed her eyes to avoid meeting Link's.

"Princess." His voice cut mercilessly through the silence. "You don't have a choice."

Zelda kept her eyes closed and shut everything out. She channeled her memories, tried to bring out something that might give her certainty. The princess understood that she didn't have a choice; it was a concept she could easily comprehend. Her entire existence was sacrificial, a gift for the people of Hyrule. And now that gift was being called upon, but in a form Zelda had never experienced: a form of murder. Teacher suddenly popped into her mind, and she heard his voice echo, "Darling, being a princess is not only a blessing, but also a curse. You must have the ability to do things that you, as a human, could not." Then, in a flurry of pain and blood, his face was replaced by that girl's. The assassin with the silver hair. The one who had stolen everything from her. And her image sparked a burning fire.

Zelda opened her eyes and stared straight into Link's.

"I'm ready. Take your position and draw your sword."

He stared at her for a few more moments, speechless, and then he obeyed. The blue hilt glistened in the light of the rising sun as he unsheathed it, and it seemed to fit into his hand as if it had always been meant to be there. He looked more comfortable with it than without it, and she imagined that it felt the same as when she had the bow in her hand...or when she had the tiara on her head. Link nodded to her and retreated back to his position behind the tree.

"After each shot, move back behind the tree," he said. "Then shoot again. Go as quickly as you can."

Zelda nodded and joined him. Each time she closed her eyes, she saw the girl, with her glistening green eyes and shimmering silver hair. And each time she closed her eyes, her motivation grew. Her hatred grew, and she was reminded of the purpose of the murders she was about to commit. The image helped her keep herself steady as she nocked the first arrow. Suddenly, before she could take aim, she felt a squeeze on her shoulder. Link was looking at her with an encouraging smile.

"You can do it. I wouldn't have brought you if I didn't think you could."

She smiled back, and tried to ignore the tingle that his touch had left on her shoulder.

When the aim was perfect, and she knew her arrow would go straight into the heart of the nearest archer, Zelda channeled all of her energy. Every single memory she had, with the assassin's face clearest of all, ran through her mind and gave her the strength to let the arrow fly. The man fell without a sound. The princess was hyperventilating while she nocked the second arrow, but the regrets she had been expecting did not appear. The same indifferent emotion that accompanied every action she made for the purpose of serving her country was the only one she felt.

"Go!"

She shot the next archer.

Then she shot the third.

As soon as the fourth fell from his post and the walking guards were looking toward the trees worriedly, Link jumped from his position and ran toward them. They didn't even have time to blink...and neither did Zelda. The way he fought was like a storm: with no mercy and no possible obstacle that could stand in his way. They had barely drawn their swords by the time Link ended their lives, stabbing them each cleanly through the throat—the only part of their bodies that wasn't covered in armor.

Zelda's eyes became blurry with the crimson of blood. She crouched low behind the tree and let her bow drop to the grass at her feet. The images...not those of the archers she had killed...but those of the fallen soldiers that Link was attacking. They raced through her mind and made her skull ache with the trauma of death and pain. She had been expecting him to kill, but she hadn't been expecting him to kill like that. There was something behind the way he moved, a passion that was indescribable, as if there were an outside force controlling him. Something that only he could understand was motivating him to shed blood so quickly and so unhesitatingly. It made Zelda wonder, and it made Zelda shake.

She heard his footsteps approaching, and struggled shakily to her feet. She suddenly didn't want him to see her that way, curled up and trying to erase the images he had just created in her mind. He looked completely unfazed, indifferent, even apathetic, as he dug his sword into the ground and raised it back up to clean the blood from the blade.

"Are you ready?" he asked. His breathing was regular, his voice had the same slow, deliberate tone, and his eyes looked through her in the same distant way. All in all, Link was completely normal.

"Y-yes," she stuttered. She tried to hide it, but she knew that at that moment, she was anything but normal.

"Come on, Princess, you'll forget about it soon. We have bigger things to worry about now."

Zelda looked as deeply as she could into his eyes. She remembered that night, what seemed like ages ago, that Shad had been attacked. She remembered Link holding her to him tightly, wrapping his arms around her. She didn't want to recall the warm emotions, how secure and protected she felt...but she did. And she couldn't control the desire she had, at that very second, for him to hold her again like that. She wanted to see a sparkle in his eyes. But her self-control was cultivated enough for her to silently follow him onto the bridge and push her feelings away until it was appropriate to bring them up again. She didn't know when that moment would come, but she hoped it was soon. Zelda wanted Link to open up. And she knew that somewhere inside, he knew that he needed to. They were both simply waiting for the right moment.

* * *

The expression on the princess's face was almost frightening. Every hint of color had simply disappeared from her face, her eyes were wide and her pupils small; she spoke with a stutter, walked slowly as if she were having trouble, and looked as if she were about to scream at every second. Link wanted to truly hurt himself for what he had made her do. It had been necessary, but the effect it left was horrifying to watch.

_She'll be okay, _his thoughts reassured. He tried not to look back at her as he walked onto the bridge. _She's going to have to get used to it if she wants to be a part of the Loyalist camp._

He kept asking himself if it had been the right thing, and the answer was always the same: of course. Even the princess herself had understood that—it was the reason she had allowed herself to kill. But beneath her gaze, her frightened gaze, Link felt suddenly dirty and vulnerable. Here she was, struggling to commit an act to which he had become disgustingly accustomed.

_It's because she's a princess...and I'm a warrior. Since the day I was born, I've been destined to kill. _

_ I'm not a murderer._

Link repeated that phrase over and over again to remind himself of his own goodness.

Zelda's gait was slightly delayed, and she seemed relieved when Link finally stopped in the center of the bridge. He stared over the edge and breathed in the fresh air. Through the corner of his eye, he saw Zelda staring at him with that same expression, and it gave him chills. He put his head in his hands and tried to rub the image away. Something inside of him was breaking, and it was painful.

_Everything is fine, darling._

Now, it was her voice. Damita had entered his head once more.

_She doesn't matter. Remember? You must continue. Continue, and you may find me, and hold me once again. Forever, my love, as you promised. Remember...?_

Link hastily wiped the tears before turning to face the princess with renewed determination.

"Are you ready, Princess?"

She only nodded, and then looked around in confusion. Something about the situation gave her back her tongue and her mind.

"How is this a shortcut?"

"Well..."

Link turned his eyes to the vast area beneath the bridge, and gestured for Zelda to do the same. Hesitantly, she took a step and peered over the edge. With a gasp of surprise, she stumbled backwards and began vehemently shaking her head: the exact reaction that Link had been expecting.

"No, no, no, _no!_ Absolutely not, I refuse, take me back to Castle Town, I simply _will not do it_."

"Princess, please—"

"It doesn't matter what you say, I won't do it."

The fear and the anger that exploded from within her momentarily replaced the trauma, to Link's relief.

"There is no other way. Castle Town is much too dangerous." He took a step forward and attempted a comforting tone. "This is purely to keep you safe."

"Link," she said, "I am not going to jump from a bridge."

"But then what you did just now will have been a waste," he insisted. Frustration was beginning to set in. She was being more stubborn than he had anticipated.

"I don't care. You can't make me jump."

With a sigh, Link turned his back to her.

"Fine then. You can just wait for me here."

"WHAT?"

"I can't afford to waste time convincing you, Princess, especially if you insist on being so stubborn. Why don't you wait here? I'll jump, head up the river, talk to Laruto, and meet you back here. It shouldn't take more than...two days?"

"Link, I swear..."

Zelda was fuming at this point, and it almost made Link feel guilty. He softened his tone a bit and looked into her eyes once more.

"Princess, please, you have to trust me."

"I...have to what?"

"Trust me. Can you do that? Can you trust me?"

Her expression of trauma had returned. She stared at his outstretched hand with a fear that ran deeper than simply that of jumping off the bridge. When he took a moment to look at her eyes, they were swimming with hidden apprehensions and worries that held her back. What he saw most clearly was her attempt to overcome her skepticism. She was trying to trust him.

"Don't worry."

Before she had a chance to respond with more protests, Link grabbed her by the waist and lifted her onto the edge of the bridge. As light as a feather, she moved with ease in his arms. She screamed and squirmed, then held on to his wrists as tightly as possible. He could feel her nails digging into his skin.

"NO, no, please, put me down, no—"

"You'll go first, and I'll follow, okay? You'll be fine."

"Link, don't let go, you can't, you wouldn't dare..."

The princess was practically in hysterics. At this point, Link was almost amused. The guilt rested softly on his heart, giving him small warnings, but he easily pushed them aside and reminded himself of the mission. Damita's voice was still echoing in his head—why it was her voice urging him forward on this mission, he did not know.

"Ready?"

"Link, please, stop—"

He let go of her, gently urging her forward. With a scream that was enough to make his blood run cold, the princess plummeted down into Lake Hylia. Link watched her over the edge of the bridge, climbing up as he did. Then, as soon as he saw her body make contact with the water far below, he let himself fall forward, like an angel ready to take flight. And for some reason, he couldn't stop smiling while he dived.

* * *

Zelda didn't know if she was angry, grateful, afraid, or frustrated as she sat in the grass, dipping her feet in the water. Link paced back and forth behind her, ringing his clothes dry and breathing in the sun. The princess sat in her wet clothes and let the sunlight dry them at its own pace. There were so many images running through her mind that it was difficult to concentrate on any one thing. The dream she had had the night before had reappeared in her thoughts, and was now joined by the ravaging guilt, regret, resignation, and anxiety. She closed her eyes as tightly as she could and tried to summon a happy thought, and was horrified when the only one was sitting behind the tree with Link's arms around her waist.

_That's happy...?_

Hastily, she turned her head to look at him. His sword lay on the ground at his feet while he continued walking, twisting the simple white tunic in his strong hands. The drops of water along his face, chest, and hair glimmered in glorious colors. Without realizing it, Zelda was staring at him in absolute awe. Everything about his body was perfect; she had to tell herself to breathe. When she turned back around, she was curiously hotter than before...much hotter.

Futilely, the princess tried to bring her upcoming diplomatic mission to the forefront of her thoughts. It was the most important thing to be concentrating on at that moment; it could mean the future survival of her kingdom. Intermittently between her thoughts, Link's shirtless body would pop up, and she would berate herself for allowing her mind to drift to such useless matters. And yet, during those odd magical moments, the image seemed to be the most important one in the world. Even though his fighting had left her in a state of shocking fear, even though he had done something that made Zelda's skin crawl and then cast it aside as if it were unimportant, she was unwittingly forgiving him.

"Link," she called. She wanted to hear his voice.

"Mm?"

He sounded absentminded.

"How are we going to get up the river?"

A pause, just long enough to make Zelda squirm with impatience. She knew perfectly well how to get up the river. She had done it countless times since her childhood.

"We'll take one of Fyer's boats. His shack is a short distance from here."

Zelda had heard of Fyer before; he was notorious throughout Hyrule for his methods of transportation, both conventional and unconventional.

"Won't we need money for that?"

Zelda was struggling against every cell in her body not to look at him as he spoke to her in that tone.

"No. Fyer owes me."

"Very well then."

"Princess, you wait here while I go and get it. Then I'll come here in the boat and we can both set off up the river."

"Do what you must."

Something icy had descended upon them as soon as they had emerged from the water. For a short while, Zelda had been too angry to even look at him. But she had been able to reason that he had done what was necessary; her attempts at reconciliation had been met with the same indifference that Link always carried about him. As if he had forgotten what Zelda had been forced to do for him, the fall she had taken, the long journey ahead of them...above all, it seemed as if he had forgotten about the nights in his tent back at camp, teaching him how to read. They had been few, but for Zelda, they had been her chance at a breakthrough.

It had become more than simple curiosity. Zelda needed to know who Link was. This was no longer a petty challenge for herself: to break his shell, he who would refuse to be broken. It had become personal, for a reason that Zelda couldn't quite pinpoint...

But that was wrong. Zelda _could_ pinpoint it. She was merely trying her very hardest to ignore what her heart was telling her...the answer to why she wanted to discover who he was. And as he walked away toward Fyer's shack, away from her, it began yelling at her in an indisputable tone:

_You are falling in love with him._


	31. The Diplomat

**So in this chapter, I took some liberty with the history. There are a lot of gaps and unanswered questions in the timeline, so I want everyone to know that most of the history in this chapter is purely from my *wishful* imagination! Enjoy :) **

* * *

Chapter Thirty: The Diplomat

"We used to take a boat like this when my father and the King of Zoras had their meetings," Zelda said. "Of course, it was bigger and more technologically advanced. We would've been there by now, I suppose."

She paused to catch her breath. She and Link were rowing a small, sturdy boat up the river. It was the type of labor she had never done before, and though she was willing, it was more difficult than she had been expecting. Of course, she was not about to tell Link that.

"I always loved the boat rides," she continued. "The water fascinated me. I counted the fish I saw every time. And I would think about the next couple of days with Laruto. She was my best friend."

"Was she?"

Link's response wasn't enthusiastic or truly questioning. It seemed as if he were just humoring her. Zelda was accepting of that in the nostalgic state into which she had suddenly descended.

"Yes. When we weren't together, we wrote letters to each other. But as we grew older and more responsibilities fell upon each of our shoulders as princesses of our respective kingdoms, the letters became less and less frequent. Even today...or before the invasion, I suppose, we still write the letters. But they are few and far between."

Memories of her time with Laruto, the childhood they created together, were the only memories Zelda could summon. They made her smile and gave her the motivation to overcome the soreness in her arms and keep rowing. Link, of course, had barely broken a sweat. His muscles flexed and relaxed with the rhythmic rowing, and his breathing fell into time as well—unlike Zelda's hurried and unsteady breathing. For him, it was almost effortless, as one would expect. In the heat of the sun, he had had the luxury of taking his shirt off; Zelda, on the other had, was clad in her outfit as well as the cape to cover her face from any passersby. The heat was nearly unbearable. But imaging Laruto's smile and the hug they would inevitably share helped her continue.

"Laruto is wonderful. Have you met her before?"

"No. I've sent messengers on secret missions, but we as Loyalists have never formally introduced ourselves to the Zoras."

"Why is that? Why not create an alliance earlier, to ensure their support should something like this happen?"

"It was never necessary. We know that the Zoras have a strong connection with the Royal Family and always have. Because of that, we figured that should anything like this happen, the Zoras would support the Royal Family regardless of the circumstances."

"But...?"

"But we never expected kidnappings."

He paused.

"And we never expected the kidnappings to be blamed on you."

He paused again.

"And we never expected you to 'go missing.'"

"I see."

"Our main purpose here is to convince Laruto that the Zoras who have gone missing are not your doing; on the contrary, you were trying to help find them. Considering the relationship you two have, it should be easy enough."

Link's logic left him as cold and hard as a statue. And the way his jaw tensed, the way his fingers tightened their grip on the oars, gave Zelda the uneasy feeling that he was hiding something.

"There's another reason, isn't there?" she pried. "For seeking an alliance, I mean. Something bigger that you're not telling me."

"There's nothing, Princess, I assure you."

Zelda shrugged her shoulders, accepted that Link was lying to her, and became determined to figure it out gradually. She was a diplomat as well as a princess, and she would find out one way or another. She silenced herself for the moment, and sneaked hasty glances at her companion. Suddenly, as her eyes fell upon him, a sickening jolt ran through her body. The princess bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming as it rushed through her veins and left her drenched in sweat. The boat stopped moving because Zelda had stopped rowing. When she closed her eyes, she saw a flash of the images from her dream. The prophetic dream. She had nearly forgotten about it in the midst of the ambush they had met in Kakariko Village...but now it came back to her as clear as day. And it put her body in immense pain for a reason she was struggling to deduce.

"P-princess?"

She heard Link's voice, but it seemed distant. And it echoed. Then she heard her oar fall to the floor of the boat, and at the same moment, a jarring pain hit her right hand. A scream was struggling to escape her pale lips, but she resisted, and closed her eyes more tightly. She saw herself in front of the mirror once more, staring at the hero...

Princess Zelda forced her eyes open. The pain in her hand was becoming unbearable. When she looked down at it with bloodshot eyes, the symbol was shimmering once more: the Triforce. Link was watching as well, unsure of how to respond, as Zelda's entire being struggled.

"Link," she breathed through clenched teeth. "Link, look at my hand."

"I...I'm looking."

"What do you see?"

Zelda lowered her hood to be able to look into his eyes. She was barely able to maintain eye contact without doubling over in pain, but a voice inside of her, an invisible conscience, told her that she needed to ask him. Shakily, she lifted her right arm and showed him her hand. The color drained from his face at an alarming speed. His mouth was open, and Zelda leaned in eagerly to hear his words, but he was silent.

"What do you see?" she repeated, urgently. "What is this?"

"It's a symbol," he stuttered. "A symbol of the Royal Family."

"What is it called, Link?"

Now Zelda was screaming. She could no longer control her actions.

"_Tell me what this is!_"

"It's..."

Link's voice trailed off and his eyelids drooped. The pain in Zelda's hand increased, finally enough to make her scream. As she did, Link groaned, put his left hand to his forehead, and crumpled into the boat, unconscious.

The pain blinded her.

By the time her vision cleared and the pain was gone, the matching Triforce on Link's left hand had disappeared. Zelda had not seen it.

She was left shaking, wondering what in Farore's name had just happened while Link lay at her feet in the floating boat.

* * *

Link's eyes slowly opened, and the first thing he felt was comfort. He was lying on something soft, almost caressing, and not a single burden was to be felt on his shoulders. With a soft grumble, he turned onto his side and pulled the blanket, blue and silky, higher above his bare chest. He blinked a few times and tried to make out his surroundings; they were unfamiliar. Everything in sight was blue and made of stone—the walls, the floor, the ceiling. His bed was the only exception; it was blue, but not made of stone, to his relief. After a few moments of silent, almost happy confusion, he heard voices. One he recognized immediately as the princess's. The other was a voice he had never heard before. It was muddled, as if someone were trying to speak while underwater. He could just barely understand, and he guessed that the voice was a woman's.

Link gathered the energy to sit up, and he saw the princess standing at a door on the far side of the room. Beside her was a Zora, watching Link with wide and curious eyes.

"Link, you're awake!" Zelda said, and rushed to his bedside.

Her cape had been cast aside...as well as the burly, manly clothing she had been given before the journey. Instead, she was wearing a golden gown that flowed like water, in a way that Link couldn't exactly describe. It shimmered in the light reflected off of the blue stones in the room and was constantly moving, as if it truly were a river of golden fabric. And yet, it hugged her body in a manner that Hylian fabric could never be able to do.

"Princess?"

"You've been asleep long enough! It's about time you woke up."

"How long, exactly?"

"About a day."

Link sat up in bed so fast that the blankets fell to the floor.

"What? A day!"

"Calm down," Zelda laughed. "We haven't wasted any time."

"But..."

"Do you even know where you are, Link?"

As she spoke, the Zora woman waddled up beside her, a smile playing on her scaly face. The fin that acted as her hair flipped around joyfully while Link looked around the room one more time, and he was finally able to make sense of it all.

"We're at the Zora's domain," he murmured. "Where Laruto lives."

"That's Princess Laruto to you," Zelda corrected. "And this is Thalassa, one of Princess Laruto's advisors. She's the one who saved us."

"Saved us?"

The last thing Link remembered was rowing the boat. One second he was there, pulling and pushing the oar in his hands, and the next he was waking up in this bed. He was reminded of his childhood, playing in the fields and then suddenly finding himself asleep in bed. Only this was not his bed.

"Yes. We were in the boat, and you fell unconscious. And Nayru knows I could never row that boat by myself. We got lucky," Zelda explained.

"Yes," Thalassa cut in, with her gargled, underwater voice. "I was sent to give a message to one of the Zoras keeping watch down at the lake, and I stumbled upon you two in the boat. The princess was a mess, and you were unconscious."

"Why...what happened?" Link put a hand to his head and tried to remember. But everything was just a blur, wrapped in a thick haze. Then, through the fog, one single memory appeared. It was a voice, calm and clear and soothing, calling his name, and a gentle hand on his cheek. But in a moment, the memory was gone, and he was thrown back into the darkness. He looked at the princess, hoping for answers. Zelda shrugged, but there was something in her eyes. Fear or worry or anxiety, he couldn't exactly tell, but it was something that rendered her silent.

"How do you feel?"

_She changed the subject._

"Just fine," he said, "but Princess, what—"

"I've been talking to Princess Laruto while you slept."

"You _what?_"

"That's why I was telling you that no time has been wasted," she smiled. "I know her well enough to have political discussions, and she understands. I trust her."

"What do you mean you 'trust' her? Do you trust every Zora?"

Thalassa crossed her arms and listened intently.

"I haven't shown every Zora my identity!" The princess laughed and absentmindedly played with a golden lock of hair. Link watched her fingers twirl and tried to listen with an understanding ear. "Only the princess and her advisors. It only seemed logical. She's my best friend, after all, and they need to know who I am if I expect them to listen to a single word I say. And how was I supposed to expect poor Thalassa to help us without being able to trust us?"

"What have you told them?"

"Well first and foremost, I made it clear that I should not be given away and, as I said before, I thoroughly trust Laruto and her advisors. Isn't that right, Thalassa?"

The Zora smiled and nodded proudly.

"You couldn't be more right, Your Highness!"

"Right. And I already told them about the Loyalists, and it's exactly as we thought. In times of turmoil, the Zoras have always been supportive of the Royal Family, and they're not about to stop now. Oh, and I also—"

"Princess, please, slow down!" Link interrupted. "You're making my head spin."

Thalassa and Zelda looked at each other, smiled, and then looked back at Link. He was on his guard, incredulous, and confused. How had the princess even known what to say, and to whom? The Zora beside her was calm and collected, as if she had known Zelda all of her life, and there was not the slightest atmosphere of hostility, tension, or even confusion or skepticism. This Zora, an advisor of the princess of the Zoras, did not seem shocked or surprised. She seemed almost as if she had been expecting Zelda, and was relieved that she had finally arrived. Then, as Link tried to make sense of it, Sheik's words echoed in his head.

_She _is_ a princess. If anybody knows how to be a diplomat, it's her. And she can be quite convincing..._

Finally, he spoke.

"So...everything has gone well, then?"

"Extremely so."

"Good. Then, Miss Thalassa, I would like to request an audience with her Highness."

"Certainly. When?" Thalassa turned to him obediently.

"What time is it...?"

"Relatively early."

"Then this evening."

"After dinner," Thalassa nodded. Link grinned back. His mind had wrapped itself around the situation and was more than accepting of it. He was finally starting to believe that bringing Princess Zelda had been the right decision.

"After dinner then."

* * *

"It started when we were children, and Ganondorf realized he was going to be the Rebel leader one day. When everything suddenly became too real. Nothing had ever been wonderful or perfect—far from it, actually. We Gerudos have become nearly extinct, and have been dwindling since before the time of the Hero of Twilight. We've scavenged for food, struggled to keep our land here in the desert...everything has always been difficult," Nabooru began.

"Even now, things aren't too wonderful." Damita said. It was hard to hold in her excitement; for once, her questions were going to be answered.

"No, Damita, I don't think you understand. During the Hero of Twilight's life, even two centuries ago, nobody knew that we Gerudos still existed. Everybody thought that we were extinct."

"What? Really?"

"Yes. The Hero of Twilight himself travelled here in the Gerudo Desert. We were in hiding."

"Why?"

"I'll tell you why. We didn't have a king for centuries. Without a king for years and years and years, we became weak. Very weak."

"You...didn't have a king? But isn't a male Gerudo born into the race every one hundred years?"

"You're right. But for some reason, there was an awfully long span of time in which no male was born. Centuries before the Hero of Twilight was even born, the last Gerudo King was defeated by a different hero."

Damita held up her hand and signaled for Nabooru to stop for a moment.

"Are you saying that the last Gerudo King—before our King, I mean—was defeated during the time of...?"

"The Hero of Time. Yes."

"Whoa. People hardly remember him..."

"Exactly. His time is forgotten. And likewise, our Gerudo King was forgotten...until the Hero of Twilight."

"Oh yeah. He defeated a male Gerudo, didn't he?"

"Yes. The very same king. He returned from being sealed away by the Hero of Time, was killed by the new Hero, and another Gerudo king was finally allowed to be born with his death."

"This is a bit too much to process. Who was the one who founded the Rebel camp?"

"Honestly, I don't even know. What I do know is that she appeared before the Gerudo King reappeared—so the Rebels were founded before the time of the Hero of Twilight. And I know it was founded by a Gerudo, bitter about the exile of the Gerudos and the Royal Family's treatment of us. When the Hero of Twilight was travelling, the Rebels were just beginning to find their footing. And when Ganondorf was born, after centuries without a King, it was inevitable that he would become the Rebel leader. Which was good. Because he was perfectly suited for the job."

"Wait, tell me about the relationship between you and Ganondorf."

"Patience! I'm getting there," Nabooru laughed. But it was a dry, humorless laugh. "My family had been a part of the Rebels for generations, as is the case with every Gerudo. I was born knowing who I was going to be. But Ganondorf had it even worse than I did. You see, I was a born a few years before him. By the time he was born, even I knew what he was destined to be. The unfortunate thing is that nobody told him until he was ten years old. Their argument was that if he knew, and disagreed, he would shy away from an early age. They wanted to instill the ideas of the Rebels in his mind before he could truly make a choice—so when they decided to tell him, he was all too eager to inherit the position.

"When he was born, I felt something very strange. It was a very...maternal, protective feeling. I felt that I was responsible for him and his well-being. I wanted to be his protector, his guardian, everything to him. Because for some reason, I felt as if I could already understand him. Something in me told me that he needed me. So from the moment he was born, I looked after him. And by the time he was ten, we were the best of friends. I loved him like a mother loves her son, with the strongest fire that you can imagine. But believe it or not—"

"The fire got stronger, didn't it?" Damita interjected. Nabooru sighed and tightened her grip on the reins of her boar.

"Yes. It did. After he found out that he was going to be leader, he changed. He grew. He became mature with the weight of responsibility. He wanted more than anything to be the best leader that he could. So he grew to be that leader. And as he did, my fire _did_ grow stronger, until I was in love with him. I was in love with him for years. When I turned seventeen, and he was but fifteen, I knew that I loved him and I wanted to be more than his protector. For three years, I suffered, loving him in silence, because I was afraid to ruin our friendship. And then, when he turned eighteen, my prayers of three years were finally answered."


	32. Peaceful Wind

Chapter Thirty-One: Peaceful Wind

When Thalassa left the room, Zelda closed the door and looked at Link with an expression of complete seriousness that he had not been expecting. She stared at him for what seemed like an eternity, in silence, as he sat on the bed helplessly. Finally, she opened her mouth.

"Do you remember anything?"

"Anything about...?"

"About what happened, on the boat. Do you?" Her voice was trembling, and for a moment, Link was worried that she was going to collapse. He stood up, felt shaky for a moment, and then steadied himself enough to look into her eyes.

"No, I don't," he admitted. "I don't remember a single thing. What happened, Princess?"

Zelda looked down at her feet and leaned back against the closed door. She seemed to be thinking, harder than he had ever seen her think, about something important. He was growing more and more impatient with each moment that she prolonged the deafening silence. He saw her biting her lip, furrowing her brow, shaking her head back and forth.

"Princess!"

"Nothing," she sighed. The heavy tone in her voice was overwhelming. "Nothing happened. Do you feel okay?"

"Why did you ask me that...?" Link was not usually out of the loop, and he hated the feeling.

"Because I don't know why you fainted," she shrugged, "and I was hoping you would have a reason for me."

"I don't believe you."

They held fiery eye contact, standing firmly behind their purposes. Zelda did not flinch. She did not blink. She did not move a single muscle.

"You don't have to."

Then she turned to leave. As Link saw her hand reach for the doorknob, the idea that had been growing in the back of his mind suddenly leaped to the surface, and he was again reminded of the princess's abilities.

"Wait, Princess!"

She paused and turned her head.

"I need you to do me a favor," he continued. "I want to write a letter to Sheik, but I need you to do it for me."

The intimidating cloud that had been hovering of her head finally cleared, and Zelda smiled softly.

"Of course I'll write a letter for you. What about?"

"Well now that I've finally come out of that stupor, I want to make some plans with him and let him know that Ganondorf knows what we're doing."

"Is that...safe?"

"Yes, it's fine," he urged. She stared at him wordlessly for a few moments before walking to a desk sitting in the corner of the room, pulling out parchment and ink, and taking a seat.

"Very well."

Link watched her as she turned her back to him and sat down.

"Okay," he began, "'Dear Sheik...'"

* * *

"How's the fish?"

"Absolutely delicious, your Highness."

Zelda smiled at Laruto from across the table and took another bite of the meal. Fish had never been her favorite meal, but she was willing to scarf it down for Laruto's sake.

"Please don't be so formal with me!" Laruto laughed. "I should be the one bowing to you, Zelda."

There was a pause, and then the two princesses burst into simultaneous laughter, as if there was a joke between them that only they knew. As she held in her giggles, Zelda glanced at Link and saw him eyeing his fish with curiosity. Finally he looked up at her, and she widened her eyes until, with a sigh, he took his first bite.

"I hope you've been comfortable here," Laruto said, directing her voice to Link. He hid his grimace and swallowed the fish.

"Yes, very much so. I can't thank you enough."

"Any friend of Zelda's is a friend of mine."

Zelda felt her heart pounding in sincere happiness. Seeing Laruto felt like a dream, and she was anxiously waiting for herself to wake up. The palace was so comforting, so filled with memories that made Zelda's cheeks flush with excitement. She couldn't remember the last time she had been so comfortable and so happy with her best friend. In fact, she didn't even know how long it had been since she'd seen the princess of the Zoras. Their reunion had been heartwarming, with hugs and kisses and laughter, until they finally seated themselves at the table. And the entire time, Link had been watching with a wary eye and the clear signs of a mind hard at work.

"I still can hardly believe what you told me," Laruto began.

"It's quite the story, I know."

"You poor little darling must have been scared out of your mind."

"Come on, Laruto."

"I'm only teasing! Still as sensitive as always."

They continued laughing and murmuring in hushed tones with one another, and Zelda felt like a young schoolgirl. And still, in the back of her mind ran thoughts of the reason she was there. Part one was complete: making sure Laruto understood. Assuring her that the kidnappings were not her doing. Letting her know that she was doing everything that she could. Telling her that she was still her friend. But there was a part two of which she was relatively unaware, a part that Link was determined to complete. He wanted an audience with the Zora princess—even though Zelda had accomplished everything she needed to do. Her diplomatic skills had been successful.

_What else does he want?_

She glanced over at him. His head was bent over his meal, but he was not eating. He was tapping his fork restlessly on the edge of his plate, and she could feel the entire table move as he shook his legs. Every once in a while, he would glance up at Laruto, swallow a mouthful of fish for her sake, bite his lower lip in thought, and then look back down. Zelda was absolutely mesmerized with studying him. In fact, more recently, it had become a habit for her. She loved to watch him, examine his movements, pick out every little detail and idiosyncrasy. She told herself that it was necessary if she wanted to break his shell—she would have to know everything about it if she wanted to break it. And he still hadn't noticed...at least, she didn't think that he had noticed.

"So, I'm prepared for a discussion, just as I promised," Laruto announced after dessert.

Zelda saw Link lift his head, his eyes narrowed.

"Good. Thank you."

"We can go into the throne room, right over there."

The three of them stood up and made their way to the door.

"Actually, Princess Laruto..."

"Yes?"

"I'd like it to be private."

Zelda stopped in her tracks. She turned to face him, clenched her teeth, and gave him the most discreetly furious glare that she could. He remained unfazed beneath her gaze.

"...Why?"

"Yes," Zelda pursed her lips. "Why, Link?"

"They're private matters, Princess Zelda."

His face was like stone, and Zelda's stomach dropped. He was actually serious. He didn't want Zelda to hear what was about to happen, and the idea of her not knowing made her livid. After everything, he was still so openly willing to hide things.

"Well, this is a bit awkward," Laruto murmured.

"Why do you want to hide things from me?" Zelda asked.

"It's just not necessary that you know, and I want to tell as few people as possible."

"I know that's not true. You want to hide this from _me_ specifically."

"Princess, that's not it."

"Don't you dare lie to me."

"I'll be waiting in the throne room..." Laruto slipped through the door, leaving Zelda and Link to face off alone in the dining hall.

"What possible reasons could you have for not telling me? I don't understand."

"Princess, I'm just trying to be strategic."

She could sense that his calm composure was beginning to slip away. He was getting frustrated, but she was certain that he couldn't have been as frustrated as she was.

"After _all this time_ you're still willing to hide things!"

"I'm not _hiding_ anything."

"Then let me come listen. I'm a better diplomat than you could ever be, anyway. So whatever you have to say is better said by me, wouldn't you agree?"

She saw him clench his fists and turn away, as if he were biting back words that were eager to slip from his mouth. Zelda felt a strange satisfaction at that moment.

"Princess, I'm trying not to worry you, because what I'm about to discuss with Laruto isn't a light subject."

"How long are you going to continue underestimating me?" Zelda cross her arms defiantly and lifted her chin, to give him the impression that she was looking down on him. It was a technique she had learned to perfect as the ruler of Hyrule. "I'm the _princess_. I can handle anything you want to throw at me. I've made it this far, haven't I?"

A heavy silence followed as the color rose to Link's cheeks, and he continued clenching and unclenching his fists. Zelda raised her eyebrows at him, waiting for the exact answer that she wanted and the answer she knew was going to come.

"Fine. You'll find out sooner or later, anyway."

With triumph pulsing through her veins, Zelda opened the door to the throne room and led the way inside.

* * *

Nabooru lay on her stomach against the sand and watched the sunset. Ganondorf sat beside her, his legs stretched out and his face turned to the pink sky. They sat beside each other, far out in the center of the desert, having wanted to escape the stressful environment of the camp if only for a few hours. She was looking at him through the corner of her eye and felt her lips turn to a crooked smile. She loved it when he looked so pensive and lost like that, completely immersed in his thoughts and the beautiful desert scenery. The chill of the night was beginning to blow, but Nabooru wasn't about to move from that spot. Ganondorf inhaled deeply and his nostrils flared. She just sat and watched him, brooding, passionate. There was something so young and beautiful about him, something that made him emanate the aura of a leader. And he had only just turned eighteen.

"Do you ever feel like running away?" he asked. Nabooru blinked a few times before responding.

"I don't know. Maybe sometimes, when it gets really hot."

"No, that's not what I mean. I mean _really_ run away. Somewhere peaceful."

"There _is_ nowhere peaceful."

"Hyrule is peaceful."

Nabooru sat up and stared, nearly rendered speechless. She had hardly ever heard him even mention the word of that god-forsaken kingdom.

"W-wait, I don't understand," she stuttered. "You want to run away to _Hyrule_?"

He didn't turn to look at her. He just continued looking at the sky. Then he shrugged, closed his eyes, and opened his mouth a little bit, as if trying to let the desert wind flow into his system. Nabooru furrowed her brow and brought her knees to her chest, trying her best not to say anything. She wouldn't have known what to say, anyway. She couldn't remember having ever heard anything like that from anybody. They had been told for so long that Hyrule was bad, Hyrule was evil, Hyrule should fall. And here was the leader, admitting to her his desires to run away to that land enshrouded in their hatred.

"The wind there is different than the wind here."

"How do you mean?"

"The wind here is full of death. The wind there is full of peace."

"Ganondorf—"

"I'm just rambling," he sighed. Then he lay on his back and clasped his hands behind his head. "Don't mind me. I know my purpose."

"Do you...?"

Nabooru kneeled beside him and brought her face above his, so that she was looking down at him. Her long ponytail fell over her shoulder and brushed his tan, bare chest. He smiled up at her, bared those large teeth, blinked slowly.

"Of course I do. I know what I was born to do."

"Do you believe in what you were born to do?"

"Yes. I believe in crushing them. Wholeheartedly. But I want to crush them because they have peace and we don't. Isn't that point?"

"You're the one who decides what the point is," she murmured. Ganondorf chuckles, reached up, and touched the ends of her fiery hair.

"You're right."

"I'm always right."

"Have I ever told you that you're beautiful, Nabooru?"

"I don't think you have."

"All right then. You're beautiful."

It was the first time he had said that to her, and it was the first time he had looked at her like that. They had been so close for so long—since his birth, and she was still unaccustomed to her feelings toward him, but now that she saw her dreams materializing into reality before her, she felt that everything was falling into place. She had been under the impression that, from the moment Ganondorf could recognize her voice and say her name, he had seen her more as a mother, maybe an older sister, than anything. And now she looked into his golden eyes and saw something different. She wasn't sure what it was, but the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and the way his eyelashes brushed his cheeks so slowly when he blinked, gave her hope.

"Thank you."

"You're like...a desert rose."

"There aren't any roses in the desert, Ganondorf."

"But if there were, they would be wonderfully beautiful, don't you agree?"

He lifted his hand up and brushed her red cheek with his fingertips, as if he were afraid of breaking her if he wasn't careful. She closed her eyes and felt the warmth, so evident in the midst of the chilling desert night, spread through her skin.

"Nabooru."

"Yes?"

"Do you love me?"

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"I think I've loved you for my whole life."

"That's good," he smiled. "Because I think I've loved you for my whole life, too."

"Really?"

"Yes. Nabooru?"

"Mm?"

"What would you do if I kissed you right now?"

He sat up on his elbows and stared into her eyes, challenging her, daring her. She leaned forward and snuck her hand onto his chest.

"I would kiss you back."

He grinned, that youthful, energetic leader's grin, and then he kissed her. And, of course, she kissed him back.


	33. Shell

Chapter Thirty-Two: Shell

Laruto sat on a throne made of seashells and looked at her visitors with an intrigued glint in her eye. Link felt the burden of what he was about to say—and the burden of Zelda hearing it—nestle comfortably atop his shoulders. The two princesses, both watching him expectantly, intimidated him (as much as he hated to admit it). They were fierce and restless, and he knew that he was about to throw them the perfect target. Link was very afraid of the explosion, imminent and inevitable.

"So you certainly have my attention," Laruto smirked. "What is it you want?"

"I assume Princess Zelda has informed you of the Rebels, Your Highness."

"You assume correctly."

"Well I think they're planning something big," he swallowed. "Something very big."

"Bigger than making Hyrule despise its own princess?" she raised her eyebrows.

Link kept himself from glancing over at Zelda because he knew the expression of sadness she would have, and he hated that expression so very much.

"Yes."

"Interesting. What is it?"

He mentally prepared himself for the explosion.

"War. A civil war."

As soon as the words fell from his dry lips, Laruto grasped the arms of her throne and jolted up, eyes wide and muscles tense. He looked over at Zelda. She was a sickly shade of white.

"_War?!_ To what end?"

"To eradicate the Royal Family and Loyalists—us."

"In the name of Nayru..."

"Nothing's confirmed, but I'm pretty certain about it."

"You're serious about this?"

"I really wish I wasn't."

Laruto began looking around the room, darting like a bird, and shifting her position in her seat. Link kept his eyes firmly on her face, trying to decipher her reactions. But he could make out Zelda starting to pace back and forth, from one end of the room to the other, keeping her hands clasped firmly behind her back. The air in the room had become toxic. He didn't know how much longer he would be able to stand it before breaking the poisonous silence.

"...And?" the Zora ruler finally said. Link guessed that she knew what was coming.

"As the Loyalist leader, I have a request."

"I know you do."

"And I'm going to make another assumption," he sighed, "in saying that your people are willing to protect Princess Zelda."

"You're getting ahead of yourself. Remember, my people have been kidnapped. And there are still feelings of resentment, beliefs that it was Zelda's doing."

"Right..."

"And of course you've convinced me," she continued. "I never doubted her for a moment. But I have no guarantees that the rest of my people will follow. Not unless they know that it wasn't Zelda. Not unless they're convinced that the kidnappings were not her fault. There are children missing mothers, wives missing husbands."

"Laruto," Zelda interjected. Her voice, to Link's surprise, was as smooth as always. But she was still as white as snow. "I thought that our discussion had sealed all of that away."

"Sure, in a diplomatic sense," Laruto shrugged. She leaned back in her throne and closed her eyes, fiddling with her unique pink hair—a trait of female Zora rulers. "But you have to understand that war is _completely_ different. That implies death."

"Yes," Link agreed. He was not about to beat around the bush or try to disguise his goals. He had come here with a purpose, and that purpose was about to be fulfilled, regardless of how painful or uncomfortable it was. Link had not become the Loyalist leader for nothing. "Yes, it does imply death."

"Lots of it."

"But Your Highness, I hope you understand the gravity of the situation. If war _does_ break out—and it will—the Rebels will be the first to strike. And if they're the first to strike, then they'll be ready. And if they're ready, and if we don't have support, Princess Zelda will die. And Hyrule will fall into chaos."

"Why don't _you_ strike them first, huh?" Laruto challenged. Link bit back a sarcastic tone.

"We're not ready, either. We would have wiped them out by now if we were."

"You're not ready?"

"That's why I'm here right now, Princess."

Link was beginning to get exasperated, and Zelda appeared as if she could faint at any moment. He considered just walking out at that moment because the air was so dense, so suffocating. He could feel it burrowing deep into his bones. At this moment, everything was starting to become horrifyingly real. When he closed his eyes, he could actually see war looming on the horizon, and he could see Princess Zelda's life hanging on a string.

"With the support of the Zoras if war breaks out, we have a chance to protect Princess Zelda and preserve the peace in Hyrule," he said. "You're a strong people."

_Flattery can't hurt._

The silence that followed was too long for comfort. Link kept himself from moving, but Zelda continued to pace. He hadn't felt so uncomfortable in a long time. Laruto was staring at him with narrowed eyes and chewing on the insides of her cheeks, mulling over what she had just been told. She was thinking very hard about everything—and for that Link was grateful. But he could see doubt in her features, and doubt was one of the things he hated most in the world. Doubt was the cause of so many problems. And here it was again, resurfacing and making his heart skip beats.

"It's not an easy decision," Laruto grumbled. "But it's one that has to be made, I suppose. Princess Zelda is very important to me. And I am going to admit, she is very important to the Zora people. Not just as a person and friend, but as a ruler. It would be in our best interests to keep her in power."

Link finally let out the breath he had been holding, and Laruto smiled.

"You have our support."

Something unexpected happened to Link at that moment. He felt a wave of relief much more immense than he had been expecting. A rush of happiness ran through him like a shock, and he found himself thinking, _She's safe_. His eyes moved to Zelda again. He couldn't say why, or for how long, or even what he saw. But he remembered thinking that he wanted to see her smile.

* * *

Zelda walked into her room, but she couldn't stand still. Just as she had in the throne room, she continued to pace and pace and pace. An odd sensation was running through her skin, making her shiver and wonder what path she was walking. It seemed, all of a sudden, that everything was piling on at the same time. She was thinking about her dream. Thinking about the newspapers. Thinking about the war that Link had tried to keep from her. Thinking about Link. Thinking about the picture. Thinking about the tunic. Thinking about everything and anything. It was all so jumbled up in her head. She had never felt so confused by her own thoughts.

The strangest thing of all was the voice that had begun appearing her head. It wasn't exactly in her head, though—it was more like a soft, gentle voice in her ear. It was a voice that she had never heard before but still recognized. It was a woman's voice, and it was becoming more and more frequent. It was a voice that comforted her and frightened her all at the same time. It was a voice full of responsibility.

_Your time is coming,_ the woman said. _You must be ready for it._

It had something to do with her dream. She knew it. But she still couldn't figure out what it meant. One moment it seemed as clear as day, and the next, it all seemed too strange. As she paced the room, she found herself wanting to pull out the picture of the boy again, the boy from the abandoned house at the camp. But she had left the picture with the horses. Then she thought about the tunic, and about wanting to hold it in her lap, but she had left it with the horses, as well.

"It can't be now," she murmured. "It can't be me."

She lifted her hand and stared at the back of her palm. She remembered the Triforce flashing on her hand, and she remembered Link falling to the floor of the boat. And she remembered not being to control herself and holding his head in her lap and stroking his cheeks.

"Why...?" she asked the voice in her head. "Why is this happening?"

_Be patient,_ it replied.

The knock on her door made her jump.

"Come in."

"I just wanted to let you know that we're leaving first thing tomorrow morning."

Link poked his head through the doorway, but Zelda turned away so that she didn't have to see his face. Her emotions were becoming harder to bear.

"All right."

"Try to get some sleep."

"I'll try."

Just to give herself a form of distraction, she began flipping through the pages of a book that was on the nightstand of the room. It was a book about the history of the Zoran people. It was an extremely large book, and the pages felt rough against her fingers. But she continued to flip through it. After a few moments of silence, she still didn't hear Link leave.

"I'm sorry about earlier."

She whirled around.

"You're...apologizing?"

He avoided eye contact and nodded his head. Then, to Zelda's terror, he stepped inside of the room.

"I'm sorry. I should have told you about my real purposes."

Zelda was silent. She was not in the mood to argue with him; it was always such a draining endeavor. He was much easier to deal with when he was unconscious.

"Actually, I'm about to send my letter to Sheik," he continued. "Do you want to come?"

Zelda was very confused at his sudden...it wasn't warmth, but he certainly wasn't as cold as usual. He was apologetic, but it wasn't just that. She fell once again into her habit of examining every single feature of his shell at that particular moment. And for the first time, she saw a crack, and a small sliver of light shining through. But it was small. There was so much under there, though.

"What do you mean?"

"I'll show you. Follow me."

Still trying to understand what was happening, she followed Link out of the room. He led the way down the main hall, through the entrance, and out into the cool night air. The smell of the lake was refreshing as it hung around them, and she could hear the familiar running of the river. Everything was very blue, and the ground was damp when they stepped forward. Zelda reached her hand out, just to feel the air against her skin. She could feel Link watching her, and it was a good feeling.

"Come over here, Princess."

He led her to a ledge near the waterfall that led into the river. The moon was beginning to give its light to the dark sky, and she could see his silhouette outlined perfectly as he stood on that ledge and beckoned her toward him. He wasn't smiling, or holding his hand out, but the image of him at that moment was welcoming. Zelda bit back her own smile and walked over to where he was standing. She wondered what would happen if she took another step and plummeted down over the ledge...would he follow her?

Link reached down and plucked what seemed to be a piece of grass from the ground. He held it out to her, but she simply stared.

"Have you never seen one of these plants?"

"No..."

"They've been used for centuries," he said. "I've heard rumors that the Hero of Twilight himself used these."

"What are they?"

"Here."

Link grabbed her hand and put the small blade of grass into it. Then he lifted her hand to her lips and just held it there. And for the few moments that he was touching her, the problems that had plagued her mind only a second ago disappeared.

"Blow."

She blew, and a melody like bells in fluttered into the air. It rang out and filled the atmosphere, an eerie but wonderful sound that gave her goose bumps. And as she continued to blow and felt the grass moving beneath her lips, Link never moved his hand from hers—and Zelda could have sword she saw the slightest outline of the Triforce shimmer on her hand.

Link held out his arm, and a hawk flew down as if falling from the moon itself. It reached out its talons and gently landed on the outstretched perch, its head darting back and forth and its wings ruffled. Zelda watched in amazement, holding in her bursts of wondrous laughter. In the darkness, she couldn't tell if Link was smiling at her, but she liked to imagine that he was. She hoped to the goddesses that he was.

Both of them were silent, basking in the awe of that single moment. Link pulled out the letter from his tunic and put it into the hawk's beak. He clicked his tongue a few times, scratched the back of the regal bird's neck, and then lifted his arm. The bird propelled itself into the air and within seconds was gone.

"That was wonderful."

"Yeah."

They walked back into the palace, and she was more confused than ever.

But Zelda could never have imagined how confused Link was, as well. She caught a glimpse of the tears sitting on the corners of his eyes when he said good night, and she could sense the tension in his movements, but she didn't know what it meant.

She was completely unaware of just how much she was beginning to break his shell.

* * *

Link tried hard not to cry. He tried very, very, very hard not to cry. It was the first time he had felt so vulnerable in his entire life. Something in the way that Princess Zelda looked at him made his emotions run wild, and that was terrifying. His values, his character, his history—it was all falling apart. And as he curled up in bed, like a small child afraid of nightmares, he tried his hardest not to cry.

But when he began drifting off into sleep, he felt a tender hand brushing his hair away from his forehead. There was a beautiful, familiar presence in the room, and when he looked up and saw her lying on the bed beside him, the tears rushed out. Nostalgia and sorrow and regret were mixed into those tears while they stained his skin.

Damita smiled at him and wiped the tears.

_You're in so much pain,_ she said.

By the time Link finally fell asleep, his eyes were stinging.


	34. Laughter of the Goddesses

Chapter Thirty-Three: Laughter of the Goddesses

Nabooru was in paradise—or at least, the closest thing to paradise. All eyes were on her all the time, and everyone said how beautiful she looked lately. She had youth and exuberance, and it manifested itself in the constant smile on her face. Her hair was shinier. Her teeth were whiter. Everything about her glowed, especially when she stood beside Ganondorf. She could feel it herself, and she knew that nothing could ever feel so wonderful. Nothing could ever feel so perfect as when he ran his fingers through her hair, or when he grazed her shoulder with the tips of fingers, or when he said the three words that still made her heart flutter. Nothing.

"You're so lucky," they told her. "You're so very lucky."

And she agreed. She was the luckiest of all of them. Human, Hylian, and Gerudo alike were left in her shadow to wish that he were theirs. That strong, proud, elegant man with hair more red than the sunset and eyes much more golden. And yet at every moment, he was by her side.

"He follows you like a puppy."

"You can see it in the way he looks at you—he loves you more than anything."

"Even the Rebel camp, you think?" she would ask.

"Oh, without a doubt," they would answer. "Without a doubt."

She would smile, blush, and act humble, even though she knew it was true. He did love her more than anything. More than anything and anyone.

* * *

"How much do you love me?" she asked him one day, three years after their first kiss.

They were laying, limbs intertwined, inside of the largest tent at the camp. They basked in each other's warmth and took in the familiar scents, the familiar sounds, the familiar sensations. Nabooru felt that she should have become accustomed to his touch by now, but it was still breathtaking each time—as if it were always the first. And she wanted so badly to hear him tell her how much he loved her.

"More than you'll ever know," he answered.

"More than anybody else?"

"Yes."

"More than any_thing_ else?"

Ganondorf paused, rubbing a strand of her hair in between his fingers. And for that moment of silence, Nabooru's heart stopped, and her life began its plummet into ruin.

"I love you. Isn't that enough?" He smiled and kissed her forehead.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Oh, come now, don't be like that."

"It's an easy question." Nabooru sat up and pulled her hair from his grasp. "Do you love me more than anything else?"

She knew that Ganondorf wouldn't lie to her. He couldn't. It was one thing, one form of deceit, in which he simply could not take part. He stared up at her in the exact same position he had been when he had first said, "I love you." His expression was not sympathetic or sad or remorseful or apologetic—it was as cold as stone.

"No."

She furrowed her brow and returned his icy gaze.

"Do you want me to lie and say yes?" he continued.

"What do you love more than me?"

"Being the leader," he sighed. A small smile began tugging at the edges of his lips, and his gaze moved to the top of the tent as if there were the most beautiful image painted there. He watched it with glistening eyes. "Having power."

"You love power more than you love me?" she murmured.

All of the energy had suddenly seeped out of her. She knew she should have been able to predict the words from his mouth, but they had caught her so off-guard that she could barely breathe. She wished that she had never bothered with the questions. She should have just accepted his answer, been happy with his professions of love.

Without hesitation, Ganondorf nodded.

"Yes. Power is everything. You're the one who taught me that."

Nabooru cringed, then turned and left the tent without another word. She hoped that the heat of the desert would be enough to dry up her tears.

* * *

After that day, Ganondorf began his change. His carefree nature, which he had once utilized to follow at Nabooru's heels and let their love blossom, all but disappeared. He stopped smiling at people. He stopped laughing when they told him jokes. He stopped telling Nabooru that he loved her, and he stopped touching her so gently. His eyes stopped glistening with the light of youth and ambition and began glistening with the fire of wrath, of bloodlust, and of power. Nabooru watched his descent into insanity and each night, after he had gone to bed without saying "I love you," she would walk out to the center of the desert and kneel. She would stare up at the sky and feel the wind, the one that carried death just as Ganondorf had said, and she would pray.

"Please, goddesses," she would say, "or whoever's up there. Bring him back to me. Don't let him turn into a monster. Please."

It almost seemed as if her prayers made it worse. When he woke up in the morning, the fire in his eyes was brighter, and his indifference toward her grew. And then, on the night of his twenty-third birthday—five years after he had so tenderly kissed her—everything finally fell apart in her hands. The goddesses laughed at her. She could hear it. They laughed at her and they let him turn into the monster that she hated so much.

He was pacing the room inside of the tent as Nabooru sat on the ground, braiding and unbraiding her hair. The flap was open, letting the freezing night air enter. But she had become so used to the cold that she didn't even bat an eyelash. Ganondorf walked back and forth, back and forth, thinking about things that Nabooru couldn't imagine. At one point, he paused and looked over at her. She glared up at him, a feigned smile on her lips, struggling to keep back the tears of disappointment that almost constantly hung from her eyelids.

"Nabooru."

"Yes, Ganondorf?"

"Tell me you love me."

"Why? You know I do."

She herself hated to admit it, but she still hadn't stopped. She loved him with every fiber of her being, and he knew that she did. Everybody knew that she did. But they had stopped thinking that she was lucky. Instead, she had become very, very unlucky, and the beauty they had admired so much was disappearing.

"I want to hear you say it."

"I don't feel like saying it."

"Say it."

"I don't _want_ to, Ganondorf."

"I don't care if you want to or not," he sighed. "You do what I say."

Nabooru stood up. She was not in the mood for another argument like this. She was not in the mood for _any_ argument, or any pain. She didn't want him to make her hate him even more. She crossed her arms and lifted her chin up.

"You don't say it to me," she hissed, "so why should I say it to you?"

With slow, deliberate steps and that same infamous stone comportment, Ganondorf walked toward her. Nabooru knew what was coming, and she was ready for it. He lifted his hand and let it fall across her face. It was harder than she had expected, and sent her straight to the floor in an explosion of pain.

He had never hit her that hard before.

When she looked up at him, determined to maintain her defiant expression, he was towering over her with a dark shadow on his face. It was darker than anything she had ever seen. It played with the light on his face and made his entire being glimmer with lust. Lust for blood, lust for pain, lust for evil. And then, before he could do anything more, a small glow emanated from his right hand. The same one he had used to slap her.

It was in the shape of a triangle.

Ganondorf looked down at it, and he began to laugh. At first, it was quiet. Gradually it became louder, and louder, and louder, until he threw his head back and roared with the sound. Nabooru flinched and put her hand to her cheek. But she would not let the tears spill.

She knew what the triangle meant, and Ganondorf knew what the triangle meant.

"They're here," he laughed. "They're finally here."

He looked back down at her, as if remembering that she was even there.

"Do you see this, Nabooru?" He lifted his hand and continued to laugh. "The hero is here! The princess is here! They've finally been born."

Nabooru felt the chill of death as she watched power consume him whole. And finally, after what seemed like years of hearing his laughter, he became silent and narrowed his eyes at her. She saw the monster, but held in her screams.

"I want you to leave, Nabooru," the monster spat. "I don't need you anymore. The real fun begins now."

She stood up and walked toward the exit of the tent, struggling to keep her footing as her insides began to cave in. Everything was disappearing.

"Can I ask you a question before I leave?" she asked, without turning around. She couldn't bear to watch the darkness in his face anymore. "Did you ever love me? I mean truly love me."

"Yes. I did." His voice was harsh, but there was an edge of certainty to it. "But love is a distraction. Nobody really needs it, Nabooru. Nobody needs it. Power is everything."

"You're right," she chuckled dryly. "Nobody needs it."

And then Nabooru walked out, wondering how she was going to build her life back up again without him.


	35. Pathways to Truth

Chapter Thirty-Four: Pathways to Truth

Damita and Nabooru crouched behind a tree on the shores of Lake Hylia, shoulder to shoulder, gripping their weapons. The sun was beginning to rise, and when Damita looked over, as hard as she tried, she couldn't find a single tear in Nabooru's eyes. They were as clear as the lake's waters. Even as Nabooru sighed and stared at the ground, there were no tears.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Making you relive that."

Damita hadn't realized the kind of relationship Nabooru had had with Ganondorf. She hadn't realized the passion that used to burn between them. She hadn't realized the intensity of their love, and how quickly that intensity had died.

"No, I'm glad you asked. It's good to remember our pasts every once in a while."

"Do you really think so?"

"Of course," Nabooru smiled. Then she ran her hand through Damita's silvery hair. "I just don't think it's good to live in the past, darling."

"Yeah..."

Damita leaned her head back against the tree and held her swords more tightly. She had been hoping that by some miracle, Nabooru's story would bring her back to reality and her goals would be clear again. She was supposed to know exactly what she wanted; that idea had defined her for three years. Knowing what she wanted, doing whatever it took to get it. And now she could barely separate enemies from friends. Had Ganondorf ever been like that, she wondered? He couldn't have been. The monster he was now seemed ageless, timeless. Endless, infinite. And when she closed her eyes and tried to imagine it, she couldn't see Nabooru in his arms. The thought almost made her cringe.

"Was he really like that?"

"Like what?"

"Sweet. Loving."

"Yes, he was. He really, really was."

"Wow."

"Did the story help, Damita?"

"I..." She paused, mulled over the question. "I don't know. Maybe."

"The point I'm trying to make to you is that you can't let love hold you back," she continued. "If I had let my love for him, a love that couldn't be, fester inside of me, it would have been too much. And I can see you starting to break."

"I feel like I'm already broken."

"No, you're not."

Nabooru stroked Damita's head as she laid it on her shoulder, wishing more than anything that the images of Link would simply disappear. She was starting to hate his face just as much as she loved it; she wanted it gone, and gone forever. Would he really have to die for that to happen? Is that what she wanted, after all?

"Nabooru?"

"Yes?"

"What would happen to me if he died?"

"I don't know. What _would_ happen?"

"Would I feel free, or more trapped than ever?"

"I guess you'll never really know until it happens."

The thought of that, the mere fleeting image, made Damita want to scream at the sky and rip her hair out. She hated imagining anything that had to do with Link in pain. It was almost enough to actually put her in physical anguish. Nabooru hugged her more tightly and kissed her forehead.

"You'll make it. You're stronger than I am—if I made it, then surely you can, too."

"I'm not stronger than you. What you did was the strongest thing I've ever heard."

Nabooru laughed that dry laugh again.

"If you really think so."

"I do."

They were silent then, listening to the early morning environment of the lake. There was the illusion of peace, something that Damita had never truly tasted; she didn't know what it felt like or what it was supposed to feel like. Only that she wanted to feel it. But she didn't think that she ever would. Not with his face constantly on her mind and his voice penetrating her dreams. There would never be peace for her again.

Suddenly, they heard voices, both extremely familiar. Damita and Nabooru craned their necks around the tree and saw two figures making their way along the bank of the lake, on the other side, toward the path to Kakariko Village. One was a man. And one was a shorter, cloaked figure. As their voices floated through the air and into Damita's ears, she thought that she was going to throw up.

"There they are. Is that the princess?" Nabooru lifted her curved sword.

"Yes. The two of them are travelling alone."

"What if we just took her now...?"

"No," Damita said. She tried to keep her hands from trembling. "No. Master doesn't want that. Not yet."

"What about him?"

Damita couldn't find any words on her tongue. So she just continued to stare across the lake at the two of them, walking side by side, away from the lake. His silhouette was suddenly the only thing that she could see, the only thing she could think about.

"He'll easily beat us both."

"Do you honestly think so? Both of us?"

"With her there, yes. He wouldn't have brought her unless she's been trained."

"And—"

"Yes," Damita interrupted. "And because I could never hurt him. Not now."

"Do you want to go to Zora's Domain, then?"

Damita bit her lip in thought, her gaze moving from Link's back to the direction of the Zora castle. And finally, she came to a decision. If they were going to succeed—without distractions or unnecessary obstacles—there was only one way to do it.

"No. They've already been convinced."

"How do you—?"

"I've done my homework," Damita sighed. "Laruto and Zelda are best friends. She won't listen to us, especially after they've undoubtedly won their allegiance. Link wouldn't leave unless he had accomplished what he wanted..."

"I guess you know him better than anyone."

"Yeah...so we should try to beat them to Death Mountain."

"You sound like you want to say something else."

"Nabooru?"

She couldn't hold back the tears anymore. His voice was getting more and more quiet as he walked away, and her heart was panicking. She needed to make a decision: what was it that she wanted from him? From her? From anybody?

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"I think that we should split up—"

"_What?_"

"Listen to me," her voice cracked. Nabooru looked at her with concern and her expression softened. "I can't do it, but you might be able to. I'll go to Death Mountain and speak to Darunia...and you follow them."

"Follow them and—"

"Kill him."

Nabooru was silent. Her tension all released, and she just watched Damita's face with a blank expression.

"You want me to kill him?"

"I didn't say I wanted you to."

"Well that's good, because there's no way that I could."

"Yes you could."

"You said it yourself. He could easily beat us both."

Damita turned away. Link and Zelda were already out of sight, but there voices still echoed in her head. She wondered what they had been talking about. She wondered if Zelda smiled at Link often, and she wondered if Link smiled back.

"I think Ganondorf would want to kill him anyway," Nabooru added.

"Then capture him."

"And how do you propose I do that, huh?"

It almost pained Damita to say it. For her, Link was irreplaceable, and she liked to think that he felt the same way about her—that to Link, there was nobody else.

"Use Princess Zelda as leverage. He would do anything to protect her."

On one hand, Damita hoped that she was right, because it would mean Link's capture and her redemption at the Rebel camp. But on the other, she prayed to the goddesses that she was wrong. She didn't want to think about Link protecting anybody else. Not even the princess.

"I can make it to Death Mountain before them if I move quickly. Attack whenever you think the timing is right."

"All right, Damita. Whatever you say."

* * *

"Sheik! Where have you gone now?"

"Dammit."

"Sheik, are you...in the barn?"

Sheik jumped up from the pile of hay and stumbled backward a bit. Shad walked in and scrutinized him. His hair was disheveled, his face was bright red, and he was covered in hay. After a few moments of awkward silence, they heard Malon's laughter coming from the pile of hay. Sheik blushed.

"Yes, Shad? What is it?" Sheik said, fumbling over his words.

Shad pursed his lips and watched Malon come out from the stall, walk past him, and flash Sheik one last smile before leaving the barn.

"Were you just—?"

"Ahem, what did you need me for, huh?"

Shad cleared his throat and lifted a letter, the complexion of his face now matching Sheik's. He took the letter and saw his name scribbled on the envelope in beautiful, cursive writing, and he knew from whom the letter had come. Putting the letter into his mouth, he began to re-braid his hair, and Shad's lips broke into a sly smile.

"Having fun, I see."

"Shut up," Sheik retorted in a muffled voice.

Finally, with a flip of his hair, Sheik opened the letter and read through the contents. Just as he had predicted, it was from Link—written by Zelda's hand, of course. But the words that were scrawled in front of him made the bright red color drain from his face.

"Shit."

He looked up at Shad urgently, who stared back with that signature, confused expression.

"I need to go. _Now_."

* * *

Link and Zelda emerged into Hyrule Field and walked on the path to Kakariko Village. The night before, after forcing himself to sleep through the tears, Link had had horrible nightmares. But when he'd woken up, he'd felt strangely at ease. There, walking beside Zelda and hearing her speak to him, he felt at ease. He felt almost comfortable. He hadn't realized how beautiful her voice was before, and he enjoyed listening to it. The hood covering her face suddenly became a nuisance to him.

_What the hell is going on_?he asked himself. _This is so strange._

"Link, we're going to have to set up camp tonight."

"Yeah..."

"But we don't have any of our stuff. We left it all with the horses."

"Don't worry."

Link's mind flashed back to yesterday night, when he had showed Zelda the hawk call. She had been so amazed, and he had been so mesmerized by that amazement. Something in his heart was screeching too loudly for him to ignore, but what frustrated him the most was that he couldn't understand it. He didn't know what it was saying or what it wanted. All he knew was that he had felt fire, both pleasurable and painful, when he had touched her. The conflict within him was becoming too clear and too overwhelming.

"I have something to get our horses back," he continued.

He stopped in the middle of the pathway and reached for his small bag, which held one thing and one thing only. Zelda watched him curiously from under the shadows of her cloak. In his hands he held a small horseshoe-shaped object. It felt familiar, beautifully ancient, in his palm.

"What is that?"

"It's a call for Epona," he explained. "Rusl gave it to me when I was younger. He told me that I was meant to have it. I don't know why. But it works wonders."

"Who's Rusl...?"

Memories flew through Link's head in an unexpected rush. He turned away because he didn't want the princess to see the expression of sadness that crossed his face.

"He was the Loyalist leader that came before me."

"Oh."

"He pretty much raised me, actually."

"He must be very important to you."

Link was surprised with himself. Why had he told her about Rusl? That instinct, that reflex to hide anything and everything about his personal life from her had faltered for a moment. But what made him scared, what truly frightened him, was that he didn't regret it. When Zelda put her hand on his arm to comfort him, he felt as if telling her had been a good decision. Her touch was just so gentle.

"Yes. He was. He gave me this call. It was even before I knew Epona...but whenever she hears it, she comes running."

Zelda laughed and squeezed his arm a bit more tightly.

"Use it," she urged.

Link nodded and brought the instrument to his lips. He had always loved Epona's song.

"That melody sounds so familiar for some reason," Zelda mused. "Like I've heard it in a dream."

"Now all we do is wait."

Link put the call away and sat down on the grass. The strength within his body was fading, so he lay on his back and watched the clouds. It was a sunny day, and the grass was dry, and everything felt a little bit lighter. His shoulders didn't hurt too much. Zelda lay down in the grass beside him and followed his gaze to the sky.

"Hey, Link?"

"Mm?"

He had closed his eyes.

"Can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"I think a couple nights ago...I had a prophetic dream."

Link sighed and felt the fresh air fill his lungs, as if he had never breathed clean air before.

"How do you know it was prophetic?"

"I...I don't know. I just do."

He was silent because he wasn't sure what to say, but he wanted her to keep talking because her voice was soothing.

"Link, do you know the story of the hero?"

"The Hero of Twilight?"

"No, not just the Hero of Twilight. The _hero_."

"I don't know what you mean."

"There's a legend that whenever Hyrule falls into darkness, a hero will emerge. The Hero of Twilight was a reincarnation of that hero. The Hero of Time was a reincarnation of that hero—"

"How do you even know that the Hero of Time exists?"

"I can feel it," she whispered.

He opened his eyes and looked over at her. Her eyes were wide and she had her hands clasped against her chest, as if she were praying to the goddesses. There were tears in her eyes. She looked divine.

"I can feel it in my bones, in my heart. Deep in my soul."

"Is feeling it enough? To really tell, I mean?"

Link suddenly had horrifying shivers.

"Yes. My Nana used to tell me that feelings aren't just feelings. They're premonitions. Signs. Paths to guide us toward the truth."

Link turned back to the sky and thought about her words. He had always believed feelings to be crutches, things that were never to be trusted. And here the princess was telling him that feelings were pathways to truth. And her sincerity about everything moved him. He wasn't sure how to react.

"And with every hero was a princess. The two reincarnations are destined to fight off the darkness."

"Just like Princess Zelda during the time of the Twilight..."

"Exactly. I'm a descendant of that princess."

"Not her reincarnation?"

"Well..." Zelda paused and took a deep breath, as if she were about dunk her head into a tub of water. "The reincarnations only appear when darkness is threatening Hyrule. They're only here when the goddesses, when Hyrule, needs them."

"Was that what your dream was about?"

Link was hardly able to force words out of his mouth at that point. There was a horrible feeling in his stomach and a buzzing sound in his ear, as if someone were trying to speak to him in a language that he couldn't understand. The story that Zelda was telling sounded eerily familiar, though he couldn't remember having heard it before. But he felt as if his soul already knew it, and his mind was just catching up.

"I think so."

"What did it mean?"

"I've been trying to figure it out..." Zelda reached her hand up toward the sky, like a sacrificial beacon, and stretched her fingers. Link wondered if she could maybe catch a cloud if she reached high enough. "But the answer is evading me. I can't understand it. But I should be able to. It's...it's one of my abilities as princess of the Royal Family."

"Maybe you'll have another dream."

Zelda looked over at him, eyes swimming with emotions that Link couldn't comprehend. Everything was unbelievably emotional at that moment, and he wasn't sure if he could handle it for much longer.

"Maybe," she murmured.

And then, Link heard Epona's familiar braying, and sat up. She was galloping toward him with Flare at her heels.

"There they are."

He helped Zelda stand up and then they mounted their horses and continued the journey to Death Mountain, where the Gorons were waiting.


	36. When the Voice Disappears

Chapter Thirty-Five: When the Voice Disappears

As the sun began to set, Zelda's exhaustion grew. She wasn't entirely sure if it was mental or physical exhaustion, but she knew that they would need to set up camp soon. Looking over at Link, she saw his shoulders slouched and the grip on his reins loosen, and she knew that he was tired. They were both spent—neither one had truly anticipated the energy that this journey would take.

"Maybe we should stop now," she offered. Link raised his head, as if he had been sleeping.

"Yeah."

He pulled back on the reins and dismounted, and Zelda was amazed. Coming to the same decision was such a rarity between the two of hem, and his recent complacency with her presence was still shocking. Something had changed in him. More and more cracks were appearing in his shell; she could tell by the way he looked at her, by the way he spoke to her, by the way he stopped avoiding her eyes. Something had cracked, and it left her more at ease. Perhaps she was making progress, and perhaps soon, she would begin to understand everything. The voice in her head kept telling her that Link was vital somehow. He played an important role in all of this. And he certainly had begun to play an important role in her life.

_Falling in love with him,_ she thought. _Should I be afraid of that?_

They set up the tent together and watched darkness fall above them. It was a beautiful kind of darkness, she decided, the kind that left one at peace. She knew she should have been afraid or worried or anxious, but she only felt at ease. Once they entered the tent, she was finally able to discard the cloak and breathe normally. Out of the corner of eye, she saw Link watching her. His gaze made her feel warm.

"Link?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you want to read tonight?"

She sat down beside him and put her bag, the one that had been on Flare's saddle, in her lap. Link stared at the ground for a couple of moments before finally nodding and running his fingers through the tangled knots in his hair.

"Yes. I do."

"I brought a book with me," Zelda continued. When she took it out of the bag, a wave of pride and passion rushed over her, and her fingers tightened around its edges. "It's the book of the Hero of Time."

Link narrowed his eyes and glared at it in a way that made the princess feel uncomfortable. If he were to keep looking at it like that, she was afraid that it might actually burst into flames.

"Is something the matter?"

Link paused and took a deep breath.

"No. Can we start?"

"Of course."

Zelda opened up to the first chapter, about the young boy without a fairy, and she and Link began to read it together.

She was amazed by his improvement. Only a couple of months ago, Hylian had consisted of scribbles and strange patterns to him, and now he was able to read it. Though he was slow and had limited writing capabilities, what mattered was his improvement.

"You'll be writing your own letters in no time," she told him.

He smiled and looked right into her eyes when he did, which took Zelda by surprise. She couldn't recall seeing an expression like that one on his face before, an expression of gratitude and hope. The sudden, overwhelming urge to kiss him came over her before she could comprehend what was happening, and she had to turn away to keep from doing it.

_Is that really what falling in love feels like? Wanting to kiss somebody so badly it actually hurts?_

They were able to finish the first chapter before Link fell asleep. He had curled up right beside her, his body rising and falling with the rhythms of his soft breaths. She looked at his face, finally released from its usual tension, and was reminded of a child. A small, innocent child who had wonderful dreams and slept beautifully. So very beautifully.

"I want to discover who you are," she whispered.

Zelda stroked his cheek with the tips of her fingers, desperate to feel the texture of his skin. But when she touched him, what she felt was ice cold. It was almost painful against her fingers. But as she continued stroking, letting her fingers trace patterns, his skin became warm. Very, very warm. A burst of steaming pain rushed into her, and she drew her hand back as if from a fire.

The Triforce was shimmering on her hand again. Except this time, only one part of it was shining. The lower left triangle, and it had a tint of blue. But something else distracted her at that moment—there was another Triforce, and it was shimmering on Link's left hand.

_No, no, it can't be,_ she gawked. _It just _can't _be._

Zelda began urgently rummaging through her bag, searching for that one item. That one item that could be the last piece of the puzzle, the parts of her dream that she simply could not comprehend.

"Ah!"

She pulled out the picture of the boy, the one from the abandoned house. His face, smiling so brightly and looking exactly like Link's, still sent shivers down her spine. Then, putting the picture beside her, she began flipping eagerly through the pages of the Hero of Time's book.

_There should be a picture in the back,_ she mused, _of the Hero of Twilight. A portrait._

She turned to that page, where there was a picture of the Hero of Twilight. He was dressed in his tunic and bore a proud smile, holding in front of him the legendary Master Sword. With shaky hands, Zelda brought the picture of the boy up beside the picture of the hero.

Their faces were identical.

"This is him," she gasped. She ran her fingers along the small picture of the boy. "This is the Hero of Twilight before he awakened."

She looked at Link again, who was still fast asleep.

"And they look exactly alike."

Zelda stared at his hand and saw the Triforce beginning to fade. Link mumbled something in his sleep, and then turned his back to her.

"I understand everything now."

She looked at her own hand, and tears filled her eyes.

"Link isn't just named after the hero. He _is_ the hero."

_Yes,_ said the voice in her head. _And you're not just named after me. You _are _me._

* * *

Link opened his eyes, stretched, and felt a horrible pain in his left hand. Everything was fuzzy and the rest of his body felt perfectly at ease, even rested. But his left hand seemed as if it were filled with thorns, long and sharp and searing thorns, that stabbed straight through his palm. He gritted his teeth and gripped it tightly, biting his lip to keep from screaming. After a few moments of him laying on the ground, writhing and gripping his left hand, the pain faded away, leaving him breathless and the world spinning above him. Then, as he slowly sat up and put his head in his hands, he saw the princess. She sat in the entrance of the tent, hugging her legs to her chest, staring out at the sunrise.

"Good morning," she said.

Zelda turned to look at him, and at that moment, Link couldn't breathe. Her sparkling blue eyes, the golden curtain of hair, the way the rising sun painted so many colors on her face. He simply couldn't breathe.

"Hey."

"Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah. Surprisingly enough, I did."

"That's good." Zelda smiled and let out a yawn, and it was only then that Link realized how large the bags under her eyes were.

"Did...did you stay up?"

She nodded and leaned her cheek against her knees.

"I figured it would be dangerous if we both slept."

Link rubbed his eyes and felt like punching himself in the face.

"Princess, you could have woken me up," he said. Zelda closed her eyes and smiled, as if he had said something terribly funny.

"I really wish you would stop calling me 'Princess.' It sounds so formal, don't you think?"

There was another yawn, and in a few moments Zelda was asleep. Link finally let out the breath he had been holding.

_I suppose we're not going anywhere anytime soon._

He had wanted to leave at dawn in the hopes of reaching Goron City before nightfall, but as he watched Zelda sleeping in that seated position, he stopped worrying. The book from last night sat beside him, wide open, and a soft smile played on his lips when he saw it.

_The boy without a fairy who lived in the forest._

Link grabbed the book, almost worried that his hand would begin to sear again, and put it into his lap. But it wasn't open to the chapter they had been reading; it was open to a portrait that Link had seen before, a portrait of the Hero of Twilight. Rusl had always made sure that Link knew the man behind the name.

"You weren't named Link for nothing,"he would always say. "You were named after a hero."

"It's just a name," Link would retort. Rusl would throw his head back in that familiar roaring laughter and slap Link's back.

"You'll understand eventually. Everything is a part of fate."

As Link relived those memories, a small photograph fell from the pages of the book. Gingerly, he picked it up, already knowing in the back of his mind what it was. It was one of the photographs from the abandoned house back at camp.

_Why is this here? Did Zelda take it?_

Link hated seeing those photographs; it gave him a horrible feeling in his stomach. So without even hesitating, he closed the book and pushed it away like a bug. Then he watched the princess sleep, practiced saying her name, and worried that his hand was going to begin burning again until she woke up.

He never noticed his similarity to the face of the hero in the book.

* * *

"I'm sorry. I held us up."

"No, it's fine. You needed the rest."

"That's true."

By midday, they were back on the horses and on the road to Death Mountain. The words sitting on the edge of Zelda's tongue were heavy—she wanted so badly to tell him everything. To just sit him down, look him in the eyes, and say, "I understand now. You're the hero." But another problem had arisen from her newfound ability to understand her dream: what was the darkness? Why was the reincarnation of the hero appearing now, of all times? For what did Hyrule need him; for what did Hyrule need _her_? With every hero and every princess came a darkness, an evil that threatened the threads of civilization and peace. It was there with the Hero of Time, and there with the Hero of Twilight. Zelda couldn't bring herself to believe that the Rebels were the reason the goddesses had once again called upon the hero. It just didn't seem logical.

_But then...what is it?_

The voice in her head didn't answer. It had stopped appearing after Zelda's discovery last night. It had simply faded because it had fulfilled its purpose and was no longer needed. That was how Zelda understood it, and she accepted it. But each time she looked at Link, each time she found the courage to truly look at him, her heart came near to bursting. He was right there, riding beside her, a mere hair's breadth away. He was the hero she had been praying for (but also hadn't been praying for).

But there was more to it. And she had come to accept that, as well. She had come to accept that she was now personally invested—her heart was a part of this journey now. The stories Nana had told her about the Hero of Twilight had always intrigued her, but at that moment, she found herself wondering if maybe Princess Zelda of the Twilight had fallen in love with the hero, as well. And the Princess Zelda before her. Maybe they had. But Zelda knew that in the future, when her descendants told stories about her, it would always be a part of the story.

_And Princess Zelda fell in love with the Hero._

"We're going to have to set up camp again tonight." His voice sliced through her trance. "It'll be dangerous to keep moving. If we stop at dusk and move again at dawn, we'll be at Death Mountain by noon tomorrow."

"Okay."

Zelda smiled at him shakily. She hadn't lost her ability to conceal her emotions—that was a trait that was almost ingrained her soul. But she _had_ lost her ability to keep her emotions out of her brain. They had already begun to invade and intervene. Nothing was objective, nothing was logical anymore when Link's name was involved.

She knew that she was in love with him at that point.

Just as they had the night before, they set up camp at nightfall on the side of the road, went inside the tent, and began to read.

* * *

Damita saw the distant, glowing lights of Death Mountain and took a deep breath. She was almost there, and she continuously prayed to the goddesses that she wouldn't run into Link. Especially alone, without Nabooru there to calm her down, everything would just fall apart. So she wouldn't let herself stop. She just continued walking, no matter how loud her legs cried out for rest or how heavy her breathing became, she kept going. The Gorons were a fairly hospitable people; they would let her rest when she arrived. She didn't need to stop—she couldn't _afford_ to stop. She had to keep going.

The war inside of herself was getting worse. One part of her screamed and raised its weapons, urging Nabooru to capture Link and take him to the Rebel camp where he would be executed and finally taken out of her life. And the other part curled up on the ground and cried, wanting him to escape such a fate and somehow fall right back into her arms. She tried to ignore the conflict, tried to concentrate on the task at hand, but it was harder than she imagined.

_The Gorons, the Gorons, the Gorons..._she kept repeating.

But her real goals were less clear with every step she took.


	37. Her Name

Chapter Thirty-Six: Her Name  


They read the second chapter that night, about the Deku Tree's curse.

There was something strange in the air while they read. Words that were hanging between them, unsaid but perfectly clear. Link looked at Zelda's face and saw her hiding something, carrying something heavy on her shoulders. And he himself felt something heavy—he wanted to tell her about it, but he wasn't sure what he would say.

_Hey so last night my hand was hurting so badly I nearly passed out. Do you know why?_

That would sound absurd.

_This book gives me chills. Really weird chills. _

What kind of answer would she be able to give him?

_...You're beautiful when you sleep._

That was the most reasonable thing he could've said, but he couldn't bring the words out. So Link tried to forget about the burden and the odd feelings that had begun sinking into his skin ever since their conversation; he wanted to know about her dreams, because he felt in some strange way, that he was a part of them. But he tried to forget about that all for one night. Because on that night, he just wanted to look at her—really look at her.

Link watched her with an unwavering gaze. The princess was oblivious to his deep, almost glazed expression. His eyes never left her face. Her lips were moving, reading the words spread out on the page in her lap, but he didn't hear a single thing. They were perfectly sculpted and red, and the corners tilted up and down with every syllable. She paused and licked them for a moment before continuing. Link felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Her eyes scoured the page, narrow and determined as she read. Each word, each sentence, each letter held a new twinkle. He wanted so badly for her to look up from her book...to turn and stare into his eyes just as intensely as he was staring into hers. Her hair was like gold, falling in perfect strands on her back and shimmering in the little light provided by the one, declining candle in front of her.

The shadows that played on her face were distracting. Each time the flame of the candle flickered, there was another dramatic shift of light in her cheeks and in her fair eyes. Never once, as Link watched her with the eyes of a feral beast, did she falter in her reading. She read on and on, oblivious to her own beauty, which captivated the very one she was trying to teach. He decided to try saying her name.

"Zelda."

She finally lifted her eyes, wide from hearing him actually say her name. His leg brushed hers, and he was finally able to get lost in her eyes for a few seconds. His pulse quickened, and for a moment, he was afraid that he was going to get dizzy. The connection their eyes held silenced her, though she had opened her mouth to respond. Her lips had stopped moving, and she was now a still and perfect porcelain image in front of him. He had reached the edge, and was ready to jump. He inched closer. After this giant leap, this final ultimatum, there would be no going back. Closer, and closer...he teetered on the edge for a moment, thought...and then plunged headfirst.

His lips thirstily reached for hers. At the beginning, he was gentle. Her mouth was soft and inviting against his, and his entire body was suddenly filled with the sweetness of her lips. There was something so ideal, so beautiful about that initial touch. He pulled away, forcing himself to let go just for a bit. The moment the contact was broken, his mind and heart and soul felt propulsion of desire. He wanted more...he needed it. Insanity threatened to permeate his entire being. But he needed to see her face.

Zelda's eyes were closed, and her mouth was slightly open. His face was inches from hers, and the urge to let instincts take over was almost impossible to bear. Finally, her eyes fluttered open. She breathed out, the corners of her mouth twitching upward in pleasure. He could see it in her eyes, and in the reflection of his own; there was want. There was more want within them at that moment than any he had ever felt. Her finger was placed right in between the pages of the book, ready to turn to the next page. Slowly and deliberately, he reached over. His fingers intertwined with hers and forced them from the parchment and, with as much subtlety as possible, pushed the book from her lap.

He said her name again. "Zelda." There was an orange glow throughout the tent and the familiar, warm mixture of evening darkness and a flickering flame. It made him comfortable...but his muscles never eased. They remained tense, as hard as he tried to relax them. "Zelda."

"Kiss me again."

And so he obeyed. At the very moment she faintly squeezed his hand, the control slipped away. As he came even closer, he pulled her towards him, placing his hand on the small of her back. There was that sweet taste again, coursing through his veins as if it were a part of his own blood. As if Zelda was a part of him. The gentleness he had managed to maintain at the beginning faded with the speed of light. All he wanted was this princess: every inch of her smooth porcelain skin, every strand of her golden hair in his fingers, ever dent and dip of her soft red lips, every detail of her elegant hands, every curve and ridge of her graceful body, every beautiful word and captivating smile, every day, every minute, every second. He wanted her.

Link's hand was steadily moving higher, tracing the curve of her back, until he was finally able to let his fingers brush her collar. He felt her shudder beneath his lips, and as if by reflex, pressed his palm against the back of her neck. Hair mingled with fingers and sweaty skin, and there was an overwhelming sense of desire in the air. The princess pulled back, far enough to breathe, but close enough to brush her lips against his in the most alluring way. His goose bumps had yet to disappear. One hand brushed her hair...the other hand desperately clung to hers, as if afraid she was going to wither away. She breathed out in a smooth, heavy way. Link squeezed her fingers harder. A single thread of shimmering silk fell across her face.

He didn't give her a chance to say anything; he kissed her again, with more force than he had been intending, and moved both hands to the sides of her neck. For a moment, he was afraid that this was a mistake he was going to greatly regret...but Zelda pressed her hands against his chest and closed out any space left between them, wrinkling the fabric in her hands. There was a second, a single second within the chaos that ensued, when Link heard doubt.

_"What are you doing, Link? Are you really doing this...to me? She's not me. You know she's not. She never will be. So why are you doing this? STOP." _

_ No, Damita. _

Link could feel the uneven rising and falling of Zelda's chest as she lay down on the thin mat of the tent, and he eagerly followed. Never once did they let the space between them increase. Her slender, nimble fingers ran along his back in chilling patterns, and he could not suppress a shiver. His open lips lingered above hers, and then moved to her jawbone...her neck...her collarbone...and his hands rubbed her curves and the nape of her neck. Her hands slipped beneath the collar of his tunic just as he slid the edge of her dress down her shoulder, and let his lips sit on it earnestly. He could feel his tunic coming further and further up his back, and her warm hands sitting beautifully on the surface of his body. She turned her cheek, just enough so that when she breathed, it was right in his ear.

More chills.

His tunic lay in a crumpled pile on the floor of the tent. He could feel the droplets of sweat beginning to appear on his back as Zelda ran her hands up and down...up and down...

Her dress was falling lower. But he sensed just one moment of hesitation as his hand sat in the space between her neck and collarbone. That beautiful space, which he kissed so gently, and then, paused. His finger played with a loose thread on the lapel of her clothing.

Her fingers dug into his skin...the endless strands of her hair flattened like a pillow beneath her head. He felt himself slip deeper down into the abyss...when he looked up, he could not even see the edge from which he had jumped.

"_Link, please. You can't do this. Forever, remember?"_

_ Go. Away._

_"LINK!"_

_ GO AWAY!_

Link could feel Zelda's heart beating to the unsteady rhythm of their movements. Yet her skin felt alien, salty and unfamiliar as it mixed with his. His curiosity drove him further; it fed the flame of passion sparkling inside of him, and was the very force that pushed him forward. There was something, a subtle beauty, underlying their every move. His mind began to transcend the solidity of his world. It was a blur of intensity and passion and fire...of fingers and lips and skin and deep breaths...and that golden hair. As radiant as the sun, as soft as a feather. In silence and in profundity, they released their bodies and swam in the glow of the orange candlelight.

Chaos. Turmoil. It invaded, unexpected, like a virus. Everything was changing into darkness. Voices in his head. Clear, silky, familiar, unfamiliar...whispers, screaming.

_Zelda. _

_ Link._

_ Zelda._

_ Damita. _

_ Damita._

_ Zelda._

_ LINK._

_ DAMITA._

_ZELDA._

_ Love me._

_ Do you love me?_

_ I love you._

_ Who? _

_ You._

_ ME?_

_ You...who are you? I love you?_

_ Yes. Me._

_ WHO?_

_ ME!_

_ YOU. _

_ YES._

_ NO._

_ Me._

_ Her. _

_ WHO?_

_ YOU! _

_ ME! _

_ YES. YOU._

_ You love me. You love her. Me. Her. Her. Me. Damita. Zelda. Damita. Damita. Zelda._

_ I love YOU._

_ WHO? _

"Link."

The voice, too loud for comfort, broke Link from his trance. He realized almost instantly from the jarring pain in his jaw that he was tightly gritting his teeth, and his entire body felt tense. His muscles were flexed, and sweat poured down his face. Zelda looked up at him with that familiar twinkle of concern in her eyes. Her pale face was now red, her breathing heavy, her brow furrowed in worry.

"You're shaking."

Only when the princess brought that fact to Link's attention did he realize that his limbs were trembling, as if the weight of his body was causing them to crumble from the inside out. He closed his eyes, let out a deep breath, tried to replace the flashing colors behind his eyelids with pure darkness. Zelda reached up and gently rested her hand on his gaunt cheek; her fingers were shaking, too. Her touch never lost its comforting texture as she brushed dark, wet, matted strands of hair from his forehead, letting her thumb drift across his eyelid and slowly regaining steadiness in her breathing. Link drowned everything else out: he just listened to her breathing. It was slightly raspy, but with each moment, its regularity returned.

Before his elbows had the chance to give out on him, Link rolled over onto his back and covered his face with his hands. His own flesh felt unfamiliar. He heard the movement of Zelda's body beside him, and was still completely tuned into her breathing. If thunder had cracked through the sky, loud and clear, at that very moment, the only thing he would've heard was Zelda's breathing. It lulled him back to sanity, at least to the point that his thoughts were becoming coherent. He lifted his hands when he felt Zelda's head cradling against his shoulder and got chills from the strands of hair tickling his shoulder. She let her hand sit on his chest, and when he felt how cold her hand was, he realized just how hot his body was in comparison.

"You're burning up," she observed. Her breath was fiery against his neck. He still said nothing, but felt calmer at the sound of her voice. "Are you okay?" Link wasn't completely sure how to respond, because he wasn't completely sure about whether he _was_ okay. So he stayed quiet, letting Zelda breathe on his shoulder and run her fingers along his chest.

"Link, please talk to me."

"I..." There were no words inside of him, no single thought itching to flow from his open lips. Zelda sat up on her elbow, staring at him with a disappointed set of eyes. He could barely stand to look into them.

"Why do you insist on closing yourself off?" she cried. "How am I supposed to help you if you never tell me what's wrong? Link, I _am_ here to help you. I wish you could understand that."

Link finally forced himself to meet her gaze. He felt an odd, guilty kind of pain surge through him, and he cringed at the feeling. Zelda narrowed her eyes and continued to stare, almost in disbelief. Without another word, she stood up and grabbed her dress, which lay in a dismissed heap at her feet. Link watched emptily as she slipped it over her head and began running her fingers through the knots in her hair, flinching at every blonde tangle. Then, in the increasing darkness, Zelda spoke.

"I wish you would trust me."

She blew out the candle.

* * *

That night, while Zelda sat curled at the entrance of the tent, Link dreamt of the same thing he dreamt of every night: Damita. Another memory, so vivid it could have happened yesterday. A clear, ridiculously detailed memory...


	38. Forever For a Night

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Forever For a Night

...The music, loud and festive, had become a part of the atmosphere. Without it, everything would have seemed empty. Smoke from the fire burning in the center of the camp rose up into the sky, swirling into amorphous shapes and filling their nostrils with the husky, familiar scent. There was not a single face that was not smiling, not a single girl or boy sitting alone, not a single stomach grumbling in hunger or loneliness. It was, after all, a special occasion. In every family, a member's birthday was always an important event.

Link and Damita were hand in hand, leaping clumsily around the fire, doing their best to avoid bumping into the more graceful pairs surrounding them. Neither of them were ever the best dancers, but they didn't care. Their laughs were heard above the laughter of the others, their smiles were the broadest, and their leaps were the highest. Link didn't really know the steps of the dance, and neither did Damita. But they were content with simply jumping around to the steady pulse of the dream, holding each other and spinning wildly.

"You're a horrible dancer!" she screamed over the din.

"What?"

"I said, you're a horrible dancer!"

"Huh?"

"I said—"

"Oh, you too!" he winked.

Damita threw her head back and let her magical laugh ring out into the night. It was more melodious than the music. He stretched out his arm, and Damita spun outwards, tripping over her own feet. As he pulled her back towards him, he whispered low in her ear, "Had a little too much to drink tonight, love?"

"Mm...maybe?"

Damita exaggerated her slurred speech, and crossed her eyes. With even broader grins, they continued their dancing, hopping around like drunken bunnies. The other couples were doing the same, although admittedly more gracefully. Whenever Link and Damita would get too close to the fire, she would let out a yelp, as if she had been burned, and they would rush back to the outer circle of the fiery mountain. But he loved when they got close, because he could see her face more clearly. She was absolutely dazzling; she was wearing her favorite red silk robe, with the flowery black and yellow designs. Her silvery hair was pinned up into two buns on the sides of her head, with stray tendrils hanging down around her sweating and glowing face. Her cheeks were bright red, but her smile never faded. When he glanced down, her feet were bare; she had long ago abandoned the cumbersome sandals.

"So, tell me," he said as he began to slow down, "how does it feel to be eighteen years old?"

"Eh, it kind of feels the same," she shrugged. "Although it's nice to be reminded that I'm still older than you."

"Why is that so special?" he glowered.

She laughed again, and his stomach turned in a mixture of abused alcohol and endless jumping. He couldn't help but smile. She was so breathtaking.

"I don't know. It's one thing I can say I have over you, I guess."

At that moment, the beating of the drums ended. Everybody who had been dancing (essentially, every Loyalist at camp) halted and began clapping enthusiastically, letting their hollers take the place of the music in the hollow air. Link and Damita simply stood, staring into each other's eyes. He could've stood in that position for the rest of his life and never gotten bored. Her pale cheeks were still bright red. Their chests rose and fell rhythmically with their steady panting.

"Do you have a present for me?" she finally asked. Link stared at her vacantly for a few moments.

"What were you expecting?" he raised an eyebrow. Damita sighed, and then narrowed her eyes. She took on a pensive look, as if she were deciding on what she wanted from him and she knew she was going to get it.

"I had a couple of ideas," she breathed quietly. "Follow me."

"The party's not over!"

"Trust me, you won't miss it where we're going."

There was a certain edge in her voice that made Link's doubts simmer away. Without another moment of hesitation, he followed her sneakily away from the fire that was celebrating _her_ birthday. "Since you won't get a present for me on your own, I guess I'll have to lead you. Can't you do anything on your own?"

"Shut up," he teased. He lurched forward to grab her hand, but just as his fingers grazed hers, she whipped it out of reach.

"Nope."

In her bounds, she glanced back with a mischievous expression. He pursed his lips, and curiosity began to permeate his thoughts. It was so dark, and his brain was so disoriented and consumed with her image, that he could not even process where they were going. Finally, they emerged into an opening, far from the fire, where the only sound was the chirping of the crickets and the crinkling of the distant stars.

"Why are we here?" he asked, looking up at the decrepit tree house.

"Because I want to be here," she replied haughtily. "It's _my_ birthday, so we'll do whatever the hell I want. Got it?"

"Yes ma'am."

With the hint of a smirk on his face, he followed her up the ladder. He would not have gone any other way; if Damita had been walking into the mouth of a volcano at that moment, he would've followed with just as much conviction. More strands fell from her loosening buns.

"I love this place," she breathed. "It's so quiet. I can come here when I just want to think."

"I don't know. Something about this place creeps me out," Link argued, wrinkling his nose.

As he stepped into the old house, the queasy feeling in his stomach—the one he always got when nearing this home—returned, and he tried as hard as he could to ignore it and do what Damita wanted.

She didn't answer. She simply walked throughout the house, guided by the light of the lantern that Link instinctively lit. She was completely mesmerized, staring with wide eyes at the pictures and relics along the walls.

"Have you ever looked at these pictures?" she asked suddenly. Link scratched the back of his neck.

"No."

"Liar."

"I try to forget what they look like."

"Why?"

"I...I don't really know why."

Damita turned and looked at him. He avoided eye contact, and she could see him acting uneasy. Knowing that she was still clearly in his vision, she slowly lifted her hand and took the ties from her hair, letting the silvery waves cascade like waterfalls over her shoulders and down her back. Link got chills. She smiled, and turned back to the pictures. He knew exactly what she was doing.

"Are you having a good birthday so far?" he asked a bit sheepishly. He didn't know why he was acting this way; perhaps it was the uncertainty of this atmosphere, the feeling that this house gave him, or the way that Damita had been looking at him...

"Yeah. It's pretty good, but I'm sure it could be better." There was an odd twinge in her voice, almost an invitation.

"I'll do whatever I can to make it better," he blurted. Damita snickered without looking back at him.

"I know. These pictures are really weird."

"Why?" He knew what she was going to say.

"The boy here...he looks exactly like you. Not a vague resemblance. It's like...you could be twins. It's chilling, really." She bent down and put her hands on her knees, staring at the picture, her back still to Link. He breathed in anxiously.

Slowly and steadily, she straightened up. The moonlight from the window beside her flowed in like a spotlight, and fell upon her like sparkles. Link forced himself to look at her, regardless of the chills. The light mood of the night slipped away.

"He's beautiful." Then, very deliberately, she lifted her arms. "You know, I'm eighteen now. Do you really want to know what I want for my birthday...?" Her voice was suddenly low and sultry.

Link sucked in a sharp breath as she shrugged off the collar of the blood red robe, and let it slide down to her ankles. When she turned around and began her slow trek towards him, with a seductive glare in her eyes, Link was convinced that this was the epitome of beauty, the perfection for which every man longed. Man would spend all of his life searching for this image, this shadow, and here she was right in front of him. In this pure form, she was perfection. And she was his.

"Isn't there something you want to say to me?" Her voice was still low; almost a whisper, and the floor creaked with every footstep she took towards him. As if being led by an invisible force, Link stepped closer as well.

"...Happy birthday?"

"Come on, Link," she chuckled. Link cringed at the sensual sound. She was now right in front of him, her body only inches from his. "You can do better than that."

Desire gripped him like a serpent, and he could feel his fingers tingling. He took one more step...and they were touching. He leaned down, until his mouth was right by her ear.

"I love you."

"That's more like it."

She bit her lip, and in one movement, lifted his tunic over his head. She put her hands on his chest and leaned her forehead against his collarbone, breathing in his scent. Her skin against his felt absolutely surreal; he wasn't sure if he was still alive, or if he had transcended into an alternate reality, where perfection could fall into the hands of the ignorant. His fingers managed to find their way onto her bare waist.

"Please, Link," she sighed. "Do I really have to spell it out for you? Can you just _kiss_ me already?"

He obeyed with no further delay. There was no initial gentleness, no hint of softness, no tenderness. Just fiery, unadulterated passion. They were both victim to a type of hunger they had never imagined, one that consumed them and controlled them like puppets. But they loved it. As soon as they had the taste of one another on their lips, any restraint became impossible. As they held each other more tightly, pressed their mouths more harshly, touched skin more passionately, Link slowly began inching forward. Damita, forced backwards, did not allow a single inch of space between them. Almost before they could realize it, Link had led her onto the old, rickety bed, and he was thirstily moving forward. Her hair in between his fingers felt like silk, and her sweet breath in his mouth was invigorating.

All five of his senses were heightened to an inhuman level. When he opened his eyes, and saw the dusty moonlight flowing in from the window and onto the face of his angel, he truly believed for a moment that he was in heaven. He saw her face, her porcelain skin, her blood red lips more clearly than he had ever seen them before. When he breathed in, her body moving with his, he could smell her familiar aroma filling his nostrils. It was intoxicating to the point that he began to question his own sanity. When he moved his fingers against her skin, along her shoulders and down to the small of her back, there was a desire within him that threatened to explode. She was so smooth, and fit so perfectly with his own body, as if they were panting as one.

When he paused for a split second to listen, he heard with such clarity the sounds around him, and vowed to himself that he would never forget that moment. He heard the chirping of the lonely crickets outside, the creaking of the bed beneath him, Damita's heavy and hungry breathing, and his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. When his lips fell to her temples, her neck, her jawbone, and he could taste the salt on her skin, he worried that he would never again be able to enjoy any other taste. He wanted her, and only her, for eternity.

Time had become insignificant for that night. But when Link's eyes opened, he found himself squinting into the sunlight pouring in through the window. Damita was curled up against him, her head on his chest and her hair spread out like the wings of the most beautiful bird. His arms were wrapped around her protectively, and as soon as he was aware of his situation, he put his lips on her head and breathed in the scent of her silver hair.

"You're awake?" she whispered.

"Mm."

"I couldn't sleep." Her lips touched his chest lightly.

"Why not?"

She moved her face to look up at him, and there were tears in her eyes. He kissed her wet eyelashes.

"I don't know," she sighed. "Hey, Link?"

"Mm?"

"...I really do love you."

She sounded as if she were desperately trying to convince him of that fact. He chuckled softly and began running his fingers through the tangles in her locks.

"I know you do," he swallowed. "But I really do love you more."

"Forever?"

He hesitated, staring into her trembling green eyes. Then, with a smile as sure as the sunrise, Link nodded.

"Forever."


	39. Losing Hope

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Losing Hope

Even in the darkness, Zelda could see Link shaking in his sleep. But it wasn't a soft shiver, the kind that comes from a breeze in the middle of the night. It was a horrible tremor, the kind that comes from having your worst fears appear in front of your eyes in nightmares. She felt the ground shaking, and watched his silhouette shiver, and knew that there was something terrible happening in his dreams. He was so afraid and so lost—she had seen it in his eyes, and she could see it now while he slept. She had sensed it on his skin. Frustration was beginning to set in from his lack of trust in her. One of the things Zelda hated more than anything was knowing that somebody didn't trust her. It was almost instinct for her to believe that she was trusted, and to be confronted with the fact that he didn't trust her made her skin crawl.

She wondered if he loved her.

_Would he have kissed me if he didn't...?_

_ Oh geez, of _course_ he would. _

_ But...would he have said my name like that if he didn't love me?_

_ I mean, he would actually tell me what's wrong if he loved me._

_ Then again, does that have anything to do with love in the first place?_

She lay on her back and closed her eyes, though she knew she wouldn't be getting any sleep. There were too many thoughts floating around in her head, too many hopes, too many exaggerated scenarios and predictions.

_I should tell him,_ she thought. _He needs to know who he is..._

_ No! What am I thinking? Telling him could ruin everything._

_ But not telling him could ruin everything._

_ Oh, goddesses, what should I do?_

Zelda wished that she could sleep because she wanted more than anything to escape her own thoughts. She was exhausted and emotionally spent and she wanted to relax, but it was impossible. There was the meeting with the Gorons to look forward to the next day, the idea that Link truly was the hero, the assassin, the kidnappings, her country beginning to crumble, falling deeply in love...it was becoming too much.

"Damita."

Zelda sat up abruptly and looked over at Link.

"Link?"

"Damita," he mumbled. Then he rolled over and shook more vigorously. "Damita, Damita, Damita..."

A profound pang of anxiety shot through Zelda's heart as she listened to him repeat that name in his sleep, over and over and over, until her ears were ringing. And she became even more confused, even more frightened, even more hopeless.

_Damita. That's her name. The assassin._

She considered waking him up and holding him and whispering kind words in his ear, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. And she wasn't even sure why.

_Why is he saying her name?_

_ ...Who _is_ she?_

* * *

She didn't want to hold them back again, so Zelda told Link that she had slept a little bit that night.

"Did you? Did you really? You look exhausted," he argued. There was a tinge of...something in his voice. Something that Zelda couldn't pinpoint. Empathy? Pity? Longing? Affection? She wasn't sure.

"No, I'm fine, really. Let's just go."

As Zelda tightened the saddle on Flare's back and avoided making eye contact with him, she could feel his gaze upon her. She refused to turn around because she wasn't sure what would happen if she did. Perhaps she would just crumple to the floor and sit there until she figured out what she wanted—or what _he_ wanted.

Before she could process what was happening, Link approached from behind and wrapped his arms around her. He wrapped them tightly, enough that the very touch made her feel warmer. He held on, arms around her chest and face against the back of her neck, as if he was never going to let go. Zelda leaned back and put her hands on his, felt him shaking. He breathed her in, and when he breathed out, she felt the warmth against her neck. It was a moment of purity. She could've sworn that she felt his tears dripping onto her shoulders.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled into the back of her neck. And then he kissed it. "I'm so sorry."

Unsure of how to react, Zelda just smiled and tightened her grip on his fingers.

He brought his lips to her ear. "I don't want to keep pushing you away."

Zelda stepped out of his embrace and turned to face him. Placing her hands on his cheeks, she looked into his eyes and saw the most terrible sadness. It was like a beacon, crying and pleading. It made her want to cry.

"Then don't," she whispered. "Don't."

He smiled, cupped her chin, kissed her so gently that she almost did cry.

"Just don't lose hope for me," he said. "Please."

Zelda kissed his forehead and felt that there was something perfect. She didn't know what it was, where it was, how it was manifesting itself...but it was perfect.

_What a strange feeling. _

_ Love._

"I won't lose hope for you."

She wrapped her arms around him and held him, as if she was holding a child; he leaned his forehead against her shoulder.

"I won't ever lose hope for you."

* * *

They were getting close to Kakariko Village, but Link didn't want to cut through there. After their last experience there, he wanted to avoid people as often as possible. They passed the merchant or the simple traveler on their path numerous times, but nobody paid heed to them and they didn't pay heed to anybody else. So as they neared the town, Link and Zelda dismounted, slung their bags across their shoulders, and grasped their weapons. Just as before, they left their horses without tying them—in case they needed to run away. But Zelda insisted on taking her belongings, and at that point, Link had lost his ability to refuse her.

Everything was a blur around him. He was becoming desensitized to his own emotions because they were perpetually causing him so much pain. At that point, he was resigned to the fact that he was in pain. He accepted it. Damita's face was ingrained in his mind and it would never go away. Even if he never saw her again. And she would haunt his dreams, haunt his thoughts, drag him down to whatever cruel hell she had come from. But there was something even more painful that had joined those memories, those thoughts, those emotions.

Princess Zelda.

She was a part of his life now, a part that he couldn't just ignore. Something inside of him had urged him to kiss her, touch her, be one with her, and now that he had done it, there was no going back. Her face joined Damita's in that spot of his mind, the spot that was specially designed to torture him until he was numb. So he realized that there was nothing he could do but succumb to these strange feelings he had for the princess and accept that he would never be free to love her. It was always going to be painful, he would always be anxious, there would always be remorse. It was to be that kind of relationship.

Link had lost hope, but he didn't want Zelda to lose hope. Not just yet.

"Link. Look."

He looked at the spot to which Zelda was pointing. They had made their way to the base of Death Mountain and were now standing among the sand and rocks of the mountain path, and when they gazed up, they could see Goron City rising up at its peak. The greens had disappeared. There was only red and orange and arid air around them.

"What...?"

Link narrowed his eyes, and saw that Zelda was pointing to a figure. It was a small, distant figure, and they could just barely make out its silhouette, but he could see that it was a person. A human or a Hylian. The figure was just about to enter Goron City.

"Link, what—"

"Dammit," he muttered. His stomach was doing flips. Zelda shifted and began fiddling with her bow.

"What is it, Link?"

"_Dammit!_"

Without another moment's hesitation, he drew his sword. His plan wasn't about to fall to pieces. It couldn't.

"We're too late," he explained. "That person up there is a Rebel."

Zelda inched closer to him, and her hand moved to the quiver of arrows on her back. Link almost didn't realize that he had instinctively grabbed her arm. It was like he had a sudden desire, a sudden need, to be near her and to be touching her all the time. He wanted to protect her and he wanted to let her understand that _he_ needed protection, too. And he wanted it from her.

"We can still make it," she urged.

"Yeah...but we have to wait. If we go up and the Rebel is there, it's pointless. We have to wait."

"This is my fault." Zelda's shoulders slumped and she stared up at the sky.

"Zelda, what are you talking about?"

"If I hadn't fallen asleep yesterday, we would've arrived here before the Rebel. We would've made it."

Suddenly, Link heard footsteps. They were light, inaudible to the untrained ear, and at first, he thought that his mind was playing tricks on him. They were close.

"Shh."

"No, this really is my fault."

"Zelda, _shh._"

He raised his sword and as soon as Zelda saw the intense expression on his face, she knocked an arrow—the speed with which she was able to do it still caught him off guard every time.

"And I actually thought I could sneak up on you," came that familiar voice.

Slowly, Link turned around, but he already knew who was behind him.

"Silly me."

"Nabooru," he said. "You're looking as lovely as ever."

"Always such a charmer."

She was standing with that seductive smile on her face, her hair fizzling like fire beneath the sun. In one hand, she held a curved sword, and her other hand sat gently on her cocked hip. She always looked so confident, as if she had already beaten him. Although she had never beaten him.

_And she never will._

"I should've figured you'd be sent," Link said. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zelda looking frantically from him to Nabooru.

"Link...who is she? Is she a Rebel?"

"Oh my, I've been so rude," Nabooru laughed, moving her gaze to Zelda. Link stepped in front of her. "I haven't properly introduced myself, Your Highness. My name is Nabooru. It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

Nabooru bowed, but never took her eyes off the princess. Link had always thought that her eyes, golden and piercing, were the most frightening part of her.

"You're as beautiful as they say, Princess."

"What do you want, Nabooru? We don't have time for you."

Nabooru began pacing from left to right, swinging her sword, staring at the ground for a few moments and then staring up at the sky. Link tightened his grip on his sword, and he could feel Zelda getting tense behind him.

"Can you guess what I want, Link?" she teased. "I bet you can. You're a clever young man."

"If you lay a hand on the princess, I swear to Din I'll kill you."

"Oh, of course you will," she laughed. Link cringed. "Of course you will."

"Link, she's a Rebel," Zelda said. Her voice was deep and dark and it surprised him, so much that he couldn't react when she stepped out from behind him and raised her bow. "I'll kill her."

Nabooru threw her head back and laughed.

"Zelda, put your bow down."

"But she—"

"_Put. Your. Bow. Down._"

Zelda paused and looked at him for a couple of moments, and he could feel the heat of her anger. But she didn't lower her bow.

"No."

"It was a good guess, Link," Nabooru interjected. "But I don't want the princess."

He straightened up in his surprise, dropped his guard for a single second before clenching his teeth and taking a step forward. Nabooru was unfazed. Her smile was still as condescending as always and her eyes were still terrifyingly piercing.

"I'm going to shoot," Zelda announced.

"No, please don't."

"Link, why—"

"I want _you_, Link," Nabooru finally smirked.

The color drained from his face, leaving him standing with a stony expression. He wouldn't take his eyes off her for fear that she would just evaporate if he looked away.

"And you actually think you can have him?" Zelda seethed.

"Of course I do. He won't refuse."

Link knew what was coming. He saw it playing out before him, and it frightened him. He stepped forward again, just to make sure that Zelda was behind him. He couldn't afford for her to get hurt—for more than one reason.

"As if you could lay a hand on me," he grinned.

"You know, she's the one who told me to capture you," Nabooru grinned back.

At that moment, the numbness subsided to make room for an utterly undeniable pain. He felt it, pounding and thrashing, inside of his heart.

"What do you mean?"

"She's finally figured it out, darling. She's better off with you dead."

"Link, what is she talking about?" Zelda asked. She still hadn't lowered her bow, but for Link, she had nearly become invisible.

"You're lying to me," he hissed.

"Oh, but I'm not."

"What's going on?" Zelda repeated.

Nabooru stopped pacing and stuck the tip of her sword into the ground, so that she could lean on the hilt. In that stupid, horrible, patronizing way of hers. When she spoke again, her voice was at a whisper.

"She wants you dead."

"_You're lying!"_

Link knew this would happen...

He knew he would break.

And then, just as he always told everybody not to do, just as he had been taught so vehemently to avoid, he threw strategy out the window. He could only see red, and he could only feel red. He couldn't even hear Zelda desperately scream out his name when he rushed head on, sword raised, with the purpose of slitting Nabooru's neck.

And just as he should've known it would (just as he _usually_ knew it would), the situation crumbled. He opened his mouth and let out a scream, hoping that it would make clear his intentions of killing her. As he ran, he raised his sword above his head, felt it tremble in his hands, crying for Nabooru's blood.

Nabooru was ready. With a melodious laugh, she pulled her sword out of the ground. But instead of fighting him off, instead of submitting herself to a battle she would certainly lose, she did something completely different—something that Link would have been able to predict in any other situation. She hopped back from his swing, waited until his back was slouched, and then rolled over him.

And just like that, she was running behind him. In the midst of his fury, Link heard an arrow whistle through the air, a scream, and the cackle of a triumphant Gerudo. For a few moments, he had to keep from slitting his own neck.

He turned to face the mess he had caused. Nabooru was standing, still smiling, and her arm was around Zelda's neck and her sword was raised. The princess was writhing, kicking and clawing at the arm around her neck, but even from where Link was standing, he could see her struggling to breathe.

"Tsk, tsk, getting a little predictable, are we?"

"Let her go."

"That was pretty reckless, Link."

"You wouldn't kill her. You would lose everything."

"You're right."

"Nabooru. Let her go."

"On one condition."

Zelda's knees began to buckle, and a drop of blood appeared on her neck from the tip of Nabooru's sword. Sword raised, teeth bared, heart pounding, and feeling more frustrated in battle than he ever had before...Link wasn't sure what to do. He had no idea.

"What condition?" he forced himself to say.

"You come with me back to the Rebel camp."


	40. Scream

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Scream

"I don't trust you," Link said.

"Do you really have a choice?"

Nabooru's smile broadened, and she tightened her grip. Zelda opened her mouth as if she were about to scream, but she lacked the air to actually do so. Link's temper was rising so high that he could hardly feel anything but anger and desperation. Raw desperation.

"And besides, how am I supposed to kill her if I'm busy escorting you?"

Link narrowed his eyes, wishing that he had time to think, time to strategize, time to wish that he hadn't been so stupid.

"You'll leave Zelda alone?"

"...For now. Although, I can't make any promises on Damita's behalf."

It was then that Link realized who the figure at the top of Death Mountain had been.

"Come on, darling, she's not going to last forever."

Zelda, who was barely conscious, began shaking her head with what little energy she had left. She mouthed the word, 'No.' But Link knew that Nabooru was right; he didn't have time. He didn't have a choice. Everything he ever wanted, absolutely everything, was falling apart.

Because Link knew that if he were taken to the Rebel Camp, Ganondorf would kill him.

"All right. I'll come with you."

"No!" Zelda cried hoarsely. "No, you can't!"

Nabooru made her grip even more tight, until Zelda was gasping.

"Stop it!" he screamed. "Please!"

She laughed her horrible laugh again. Link's insides were squirming.

"Drop your sword," she ordered. Hesitation was inevitable, and he tightened the grip on the hilt of his sword. He felt somewhere inside that he needed it. "_Now_."

Zelda kept shaking her head, as weak as she was. Her lips were turning blue, and Link finally obeyed. He let his sword fall from his grip and onto the harsh, dry ground.

"Good boy. Now come here."

He felt like he was walking through fire. The soles of his feet felt hot and each step he took sent a shockwave of pain through his entire body. It was if his insides were burning up, becoming dust, crushed under the knowledge that it was all over. Everything was gone. He had failed. Standing before Nabooru, dejected and ready for defeat, he was completely clueless. What could he possibly do that point to make things better? He wanted so badly to be the one to catch Zelda when she fell. He watched her face, saw her continue to shake her head, followed the tears as they spilled from her eyes.

In a matter of seconds, Nabooru let go of the princess and put her sword to Link's neck instead. He couldn't see Zelda, crumpled to the ground, but he could hear her heavy, raspy breathing, and it filled his entire mind. That, and the horrifying words that Nabooru had uttered.

_She wants you dead._

He wondered if it was possible to be more confused than he was at the moment.

"Why don't you just kill me right here, right now? Then you could take the princess," he asked. The sword was painful against the tender skin of his neck.

"Well with you gone, we can take the princess any time we want. And I figured Ganondorf would want to be the one to kill you, anyway. He wants to claim your head as his own."

Link spit at her feet, only to feel the blade digging deeper.

"Why don't you take her, too?"

"It's not time yet."

"...Not time?"

"No, it's not time yet. Now, allow me to escort you to the Rebel Camp."

And then Nabooru led him away, and he felt his entire life being left behind.

* * *

When Zelda woke up, she was warm and everything was bright. As she opened her eyes she was nearly blinded, but the light felt so wonderful against her skin. As if she were a flower drinking in the sun. A voice, beautiful and familiar, spoke and made her smile.

"Thank the goddesses you're awake. I thought...I thought..."

"...Sheik?"

The light slowly faded to reveal Sheik's face above her, lips trembling and eyes shimmering with tears of relief. Even his skin seemed to be sparkling. He was kneeling on the ground beside her and holding her in his arms, and when she opened her eyes, he let out a sob and pressed his forehead against hers.

"Thank the goddesses. Thank the goddesses."

"What are you doing here?" she said, and then she noticed how raspy her voice was. "What happened?"

"I really thought you were dead!" he cried. His arms squeezed her more tightly and she felt his tears against her cheek, and she was so happy to see him...but she was so confused.

"Am I back at camp? What's going on? Why did you think I was dead?"

"I don't even know what happened," he responded.

With his hands steadily on her shoulders, he helped her sit up, brushed the hair away from her face, looked at her with brow furrowed and breathing heavy. When she put her hands on the ground, she felt nothing but dirt.

"I made it here as fast as I could, and I found you passed out here."

"Wait, wait, Sheik. Where are we?"

Suddenly, Zelda's head began to ache and her throat seemed to close, as if there was a strong hand grasping it and squeezing as tightly as possible. With a gasp, she put her hands to her neck. She wished that the fog in her head would disappear. She was having so much trouble remembering and even identifying her surroundings. Everything was blurry except for the strange pain on her neck and Sheik's face.

"We're at the base of Death Mountain."

"Death Mountain..."

And then, with a horrible shock, all the memories came flooding back. Her eyes widened, she grabbed Sheik's sleeves, and her heart stopped beating. Everything stopped.

"Where's Link?"

"What?"

"_Link!_ Where is he?"

Sheik's face fell and all of the color drained from his cheeks. He was almost as white as the clouds rolling by carelessly in the sky.

"I...I thought you knew. He wasn't here when I found you."

When Zelda closed her eyes, she saw the image. The last thing she remembered before everything became black. It was Link, standing, the sword falling from his grasp as she tried so hard to scream. She recalled the terrifying feeling of not being able to say nothing, not even being able to cry out in pain. That woman's grip had been ruthless. That woman. She had wanted to take him. She had told him to drop his sword, he had done it, and then everything had become black.

"No, no, no, no," she began mumbling as realization hit her, like a brick straight against her head. "This can't be."

"Zelda, what happened? Please, you have to remember," Sheik urged. His hands were still on her shoulders, but they were shaking. She sensed the fear emanating from his body, felt his anxiety fill the air.

"She took him. That woman took him."

"That woman? What woman?"

"She had red hair. And frightening golden eyes."

"No way..."

"Her name was Nabooru. She took him away."

"Nabooru was here?"

Zelda had lost her ability to think coherently. No matter how hard she tried, she could summon neither logic nor positive feelings of any kind. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so hopeless and useless and upset. Perhaps the night her castle had been attacked. Perhaps that was it.

"He's gone. She took him away from me. Right in front of my eyes, she took him away..."

"_Zelda!"_ Sheik screamed. The desperation was heavy in his voice. "_Please, tell me what happened!" _

"Nabooru took Link!" she cried. It was a horrible scream, and she wondered if it had even been her own voice.

"You can't be serious."

"He let her take him. He just...he just gave up."

"I—"

"It's all my fault. He's going to die. It's my fault."

"What are you—?"

"That woman. She was choking me. And she said she would let me go if Link went with her. And...he went."

Sheik's eyes became dark. She wondered if her expression was deep, heavy, determined like his. He stared up at the sky and his fingers clenched into fists. There were a few moments of silence, but it was the kind of tense silence that made Zelda want to burst into tears. In fact, there was nothing she wanted more than to burst into tears. It was all her fault. Link was gone, the _hero_ was gone, and it was because she had been too weak. She had had him right in her palms, and he had slipped through her fingers in a matter of minutes, leaving her empty-handed and disillusioned. Nothing was going right.

_I'm not suited to be the princess. _

"They're going to kill him," Sheik said. That was when the tears poured from his eyes. "There's nothing we can do. Link is going to die."

"No! There has to be something, there has to be."

"Trying to save him by ourselves is like a suicide mission. And getting more people will take time...too much time."

Zelda had never seen Sheik cry before. They were real, horribly sad tears. They were the kind of tears that represented utter hopelessness and despair. When she looked into his eyes, they were empty.

"If only I'd gotten here sooner."

"There has to be something, there has to be something."

"There's nothing."

Sheik slammed his fists against the ground, raised his head to skies, and let out a bloodcurdling scream. It was the scream of someone who was mourning, grieving for something so dear to him that losing it was like ripping out a piece of his heart. Zelda wished that she had the energy to scream like that.

"There has to be something," she repeated. She felt that maybe if she kept repeating it, it would become true. "There has to be something."

"_There's nothing!"_

She felt herself slip into a state of shock.

"I love him," she heard herself say. "I love him. And he's gone."

Sheik stared at her blankly.

"You what?"

Zelda shrugged.

"I love him. But it doesn't matter."

He wrapped his arms around her again and, before she could react, began sobbing like a child against her neck.

"You know what I told him? Only this morning. I told him that I would never lose hope in him. I don't want to lose hope in him," she murmured. Sheik began shaking his head. "I can't lose hope in him. I promised I wouldn't."

"If only I'd gotten here sooner..."

"We can't lost hope, Sheik. Link wouldn't want it. He needs us not to lose hope in him."

"If I'd gotten here two damn minutes sooner..."

"Don't lose hope, darling. He'll be okay."

"He's my best friend. Like my brother."

She was surprised at her own confidence. Something inside of her, something so similar to that voice she had been hearing, was telling her to calm down. He was going to be fine. She felt it. Somehow, things would work out.

"I promise you. Link will be fine."

At that moment, something changed inside of Princess Zelda. She felt power rushing through her veins, but it was a unique power. She felt wiser than she ever had before, more in control of her own mind and her surroundings. She knew what was up and what was down, what was worth crying over and what was worth fighting for. Waiting for Link was the only option left for her—that was something she felt so strongly it overcame all other emotions.

The Triforce of Wisdom finally awakened within her.

She held Sheik and kept repeating, "Link will be fine," because she truly believed it.

* * *

Damita was speaking to one of Darunia's advisors when she heard the scream. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand up and sent chills running along every inch of her skin. It was one of the most horrible things she had ever heard, and she could tell that it was distant...but it was so close at that same time. As if someone were screaming in her ear. Screaming in horror. She recognized the voice. She knew who was screaming, she knew why, and she felt her world beginning to fall apart piece by piece.

Her plan had worked.

Shouldn't she have been happy? Relieved? Glad that Link was going to stop haunting her?

But that was the problem.

_He's never going to stop haunting me._

She felt as if she were the only one who had heard Sheik's scream. She was surrounded by Gorons going about their daily business, stopping to stare at this strange silver-haired Hylian. And none of them seemed fazed in the slightest by the scream that she couldn't get out of her head. She knew that when she went to bed that night, she would hear the scream. She would hear it in her nightmares. She imagined Sheik, once a good friend of hers, beside himself in grief and anger, tears rushing from his bright red eyes.

"Excuse me, we were discussing Brother Darunia?"

"Oh, right," she sighed. The Goron she was talking to crossed his arms and straightened up, amounting to be at least three feet taller than her. "When can I speak to him? It's a very urgent matter."

"When Brother Darunia is done with his afternoon meal, you may ask permission to speak to him. Whether you'll actually get to depends on his mood."

"That's fine. Can I just wait here?"

"If you want."

Damita could feel her own distraction.

_Come on, focus. You can't let Link distract you—not this time. You need this. This is how you can be redeemed..._

That scream had been so horrible though.


	41. As Long as It Glows

Chapter Forty: As Long As It Glows

Zelda held Sheik until his tears ran out and he was left trembling in her arms. His fingers were grasping her clothes as if for dear life, and she was afraid that if she were to let go, he would fall to the ground. She continued to stroke his hair, continued to say the words, "Link will be fine," for as long as he lay there. She wished that he would stop crying, because Link wasn't dead. She could feel him living. And she could see him living in the future.

"It's not yet his time to die," she murmured. "Hyrule needs him."

"They're going to kill him."

"...They'll try."

He would suffer. Of that she was certain. But she wondered if it were possible for him to truly suffer more than he already had been. Was that possible, she thought?

_He's in so much pain. Just like I am._

But something else was sitting in the back of her mind crying out for attention. It was a part of that image, the scene she remembered before blackness had taken over, of Link dropping his sword and lowering his head. Each time she closed her eyes and recalled that image, the sword glowed. She couldn't remember if it had actually glowed, but when she forced the memories to resurface, it did.

"Sheik, can I ask you a strange question?"

He finally managed to lift his face, which was drained of all its usual energy and enthusiasm. All that was left was a shell of Sheik. His eyes were swollen, his face was stained with tears, and when Zelda let go of him, he started nervously playing with his braid. Braiding, unbraiding. Braiding, unbraiding.

"Where did Link get his sword?"

Sheik furrowed his brow and blinked, as if he were walking into the sun after hours of pure darkness.

"His s-sword?"

"Yes. Did Rusl give it to him?"

"Y-yeah, I think so. When he turned twelve. Why?"

While Sheik continued braiding and unbraiding his hair, Zelda stood up. When she tried to take a step, she thought her legs were about to give out on her, but she managed to steady herself before falling to her knees. Slowly, she took another step. She walked to the spot where she had seen him standing, so sacrificial and beautiful, sword in hand. When she finally reached that fateful spot, she stared down and saw his footprints imprinted in the red dirt. And beside them was a sword shimmering different colors beneath the rays of sun and with a hilt as blue as the ocean. Zelda bent down and picked it up.

A shock ran through her arm when she grabbed it. She could feel Sheik's eyes on her as she ran her finger along the edge of the blade and watched, with a smile, as it failed to draw blood from her skin.

"What are you doing?"

"Come here."

Sheik, with shaky legs, made his way over to where Zelda stood with the sword in her hands.

"That's Link's sword," he mumbled.

"The one Rusl gave him?"

"Yeah."

"When he was twelve?"

"Mhmm."

Sheik was having trouble paying attention or even maintaining eye contact for more than a few moments. Zelda reached down and squeezed his hand. And then, she placed her hand over the lower part of the sword's grip. As soon as her fingers grazed the surface, the Triforce began to glow on it. Bright and nearly blinding. Sheik stumbled backward, while Zelda was unfazed. After all, she had been expecting this to happen.

"Wh...What's going on?"

"This is the Master Sword," Zelda replied. She grabbed his hand again and brought it up to the Triforce. "Doesn't it feel warm?"

"Yeah," Sheik paused as his hand pressed against the golden triangle. "Yeah, it does."

"As long as this triangle right here keeps glowing," she began, pointing out the lower right triangle of the Triforce. It had a tint of green. "As long as this lower right triangle glows, Link is alive."

Sheik simply stared at her hollowly for a few moments, as if she hadn't even spoken a language he understood.

"I don't understand."

"This part right here is the Triforce of Courage, the one that Link has. So as long as it's glowing here on the sword, it means he's alive. And as long as this blue one here glows, it means I'm alive. And as long as this red one glows—"

"Zelda, please stop for a second, babe," he interrupted, raising his hands. "What the _hell_ are you talking about?"

She wasn't even sure how she knew all of this. She had absolutely no idea. What little she knew (or thought she knew) about the Master Sword was from reading about the legends. The Blade of Evil's Bane, the sword that only the chosen hero could wield. She could feel that this was the Master Sword when she held it in her hands...but everything else, all of the other words that spilled from her mouth, were hardly comprehensible even to her. There was a compartment of knowledge, instinctive knowledge, within her mind that was suddenly being summoned. These were things that she had to know but didn't know that she knew. But she knew, nonetheless.

"I guess I'll start from the beginning," she sighed. "Link is the legendary hero."

"The what now?"

"You know, the hero. Like the Hero of Time, the Hero of Twilight..."

"Did you hit your head when you fell?"

"Don't worry, you'll understand everything soon enough," Zelda said hastily. "I just want you to know that as long as this little triangle glows, you don't have to worry about Link. It means he's alive."

He narrowed his blood red eyes, skepticism written on his face, and cocked his hip.

"How do you know?"

"I just _do_, okay? Do you trust me, Sheik?"

"Y-yeah, of course I trust you..."

"All right then. Now, we have to find a place to wait for the Rebel up there to come down. Then we have to go up and talk to the Gorons. I'll explain while we wait?"

"Uh, okay—"

"Take this sword. I know you don't need a weapon...well, you could never use that one anyway, but just keep it with you."

"Hey!"

"Come on, the Rebel will probably come down any minute."

"Zelda!" he interrupted. When she finally stopped talking, she realized that her adrenaline was pumping and her breathing was heavy. She intended on finishing this mission because that was what Link wanted, and whatever Link wanted was what the Loyalists wanted. She was determined to finish this for him.

"...What?"

Sheik cracked a smile. It was small, but that didn't matter. It was still a smile, and it still filled Zelda's heart with relief.

"Thanks. For not losing hope."

She put her hand against his cheek and wiped the last remaining tear from the corner of his eye.

"I won't ever lose hope."

* * *

Damita stared into Darunia's eyes and told her story. With fake tears running down her face, she talked about the horrors of the Royal Family, about the skeletons it had in its closet. She apologized to him, for she knew that he had lost citizens. And Princess Zelda had done nothing about it. She reached forward and grabbed his hand, as if they had been best friends since birth, and tried to comfort him. The entire time that she was speaking, he was listening. He was not only listening, but he was listening with open ears. He nodded, he let her hold his hand, he grunted in affirmation.

Damita took one look into his eyes and knew that she had won. Darunia would fight for the Rebels with the misleading knowledge that Princess Zelda had let his people go missing.

"I really hate to ask this of you," she sniffled, "but our leader feels the winds of war approaching."

"I think everyone can feel those winds," Darunia responded gruffly. "We even feel them here, at the top of Death Mountain."

"Do we have your support, Brother? In our quest to finally bring down the Royal Family? In our quest to bring justice to Hyrule?"

Darunia paused and put his fingers to his chin. But Damita wasn't afraid. She had gained his support as soon as she had walked in.

"Yes. You can count on us, Sister...?"

"Damita."

"Sister Damita. You can count on us."

When she walked out, there was a confident spring in her step. She heard redemption calling her, loud and clear, and the winds of war became stronger than ever. But she felt them blowing in her favor. She would return to the Rebel camp a hero, someone that Master could be proud of. That was what she wanted, after all.

The smile disappeared from her face when she remembered the other person waiting for her at camp. The one person she wanted to see more than anyone, but also the one person she didn't want to see.

_Will nothing ever be easy for me?_

Damita tied up her hair and prepared for the journey to camp, which would be more emotionally exhausting than anything.

* * *

"And that's when I realized that Link—"

"Shh!"

Sheik clapped his hand over Zelda's mouth and crouched lower, so that they were completely hidden behind the rocks and bushes. The footsteps that Sheik's trained ears had picked up became louder and clearer, and Zelda habitually held her breath.

"Oh great, it _had_ to be her, didn't it," he sighed.

The woman, the assassin, the one who had taken everything from her, strolled down from the entrance to Death Mountain. The expression on her face told them all they needed to know—she had been successful. The Gorons were on their side.

"That's her," she seethed. "That's the one who killed Teacher. Damita."

"Mhmm, that's her all right."

Zelda knocked an arrow and aimed from between the leaves of the bushes. Her target was the woman's ice cold heart, as black as night itself. Sheik cursed under his breath and grabbed her arms before she had the chance to let the arrow fly.

"No! Zelda, no, you can't," he breathed.

"Why the hell not? What is it with you and Link?" she hissed. The fact that there were Rebels right in front of her, practically asking for death, and she hadn't been able to kill them, frustrated her to no end. "Why do you keep saving their lives?"

"I don't want to save her life for her, but just trust me. If Link is at the Rebel camp, she's our only hope that he'll get out alive."

There was that connection again. The mysterious connection between Link and Damita. She had seen it the night that Shad had been attacked, she had heard Link saying her name in his sleep, and it was resurfacing again now.

"What...what is the connection between Link and Damita? What makes you say that she's his only chance of survival?"

"I..."

"Sheik, please tell me."

He looked anxiously into her eyes, shifted his gaze to Damita as she confidently walked past them, and let out a heavy sigh.

"Damita used to be a Loyalist."

Zelda narrowed her eyes and searched for the truth in his red irises, and she could see that there was something hidden in there. He wasn't telling her everything.

"That can't be it," she murmured. "There has to be something more. Sheik, he was saying her name _in his sleep_."

He ran his hands along his face and tugged at the hair on his scalp, as if the words sitting on his lips were bitter. The bitterest taste there ever could be. Zelda was suddenly extremely nervous, and there was this strange tugging at her heartstrings, as if she didn't even want to know the secret anymore.

"Link and Damita were in love," he admitted. "As in love as you can get, actually."

Zelda's stomach dropped and she sensed something beginning to squeeze the life out of her heart. She should've guessed it. Holding back tears of anger and frustration, she glanced through the bushes back at that girl.

And that girl was staring straight back with eyes as wrathful as a storm. Then, after a few moments, the girl simply turned her face and walked away, leaving Zelda with heavy breathing and a quickened pulse.

* * *

Sheik had a horrible, churning feeling in his stomach when he and Zelda walked into Goron City. She had insisted that she keep her hood up for now, as there was no way of knowing what Damita had said to Darunia, and he was in no place to disagree. With his overwhelming desire to protect her kicking in, a desire he had never been able to control since meeting her, he was never more than an inch from her side. It was like an instinct to protect her, an instinct to stand beside her and fend off danger. A reflex that he felt pulsing through his veins. When they walked, their shoulders brushed, and he squeezed even closer when he saw the way the Gorons were staring at them. Like rats to be crushed.

"Excuse me, but we'd like an audience with Brother Darunia," he said to one of the Gorons standing at the large, ornate door to Darunia's room. "It's really urgent."

The Goron stared down at them, making Sheik squirm uncomfortably beneath his gaze. Zelda wove her arm through his, but stared straight ahead. He could tell that she was thinking very, very hard about something. It made him extremely nervous.

After a few moments of tense silence, there was a knock from the other side of the large door.

"Very well," the guard said, "Brother Darunia will see you now."

Still without saying a word, Zelda followed Sheik inside when the door opened. The air was much more ominous in there, and Sheik hated that feeling more than anything. One thing that frightened him was being in a situation where he couldn't fight his way out, and he knew that no matter what, fighting off a Goron was out of the question. That made him so indescribably nervous.

"Zelda, I don't like this."

"Shh."

"I can't fight a Goron."

"You won't _have_ to."

"If you say so."

"I will shoot you myself if you try to fight Brother Darunia."

"Whatever. I still don't like this."

"Welcome," came Brother Darunia's deep, gruff voice.

But Sheik didn't think that he sounded very welcoming. Not at all.


	42. Young and Beautiful

Chapter Forty-One: Young and Beautiful

Sheik tried to explain the situation, and as Zelda watched him, she saw her worst fears being realized. The words were going into one of Darunia's ears and out of the other, his stony expression never changing. She couldn't feel his approval, she couldn't even feel him listening. His eyes were glassy, his mouth was curved downward, and he hardly moved an inch in the amount of time that Sheik was explaining. Finally, he stopped, and the silence that followed made Zelda unbelievably nervous.

"Who is your friend?" he asked. It was the only thing he had said since they arrived.

Sheik looked over at her, biting his lower lip. Zelda wasn't sure if she had a choice anymore. She had planned on revealing herself from the start, but was it really a good idea at this point? She just didn't know.

"I want to know who she is."

The tone in his voice made everything clear to her.

"You know who I am," she responded.

"Yes. I do," Darunia sighed. "Princess Zelda."

"Um. Am I missing something?" Sheik asked.

The princess lowered her hood and took on her most confident expression, the one her parents had taught her. _Use it when you need people to believe in you. Even if you don't believe in yourself._

"You are brave showing your face here."

"Then you know why I'm here?"

"I know why you are here."

"Really? 'Cuz _I_ hardly know why we're here," Sheik sighed.

"You want the support of the Gorons," Darunia continued, "in the coming war."

"We don't know if there actually will be a war though," Sheik argued. Darunia threw his head back and laughed, and Zelda could hardly keep from cringing.

"Oh, there will be a war," he said. "The Rebels feel it as well."

"You spoke to Damita?" Sheik replied.

"No. She spoke to me."

"Oh geez..."

"Sheik, shh. Just listen," Zelda whispered. Darunia's words were making a machine start to whir in her head.

"You're distraught, Brother Darunia," she said. "You are afraid and you are upset."

"How dare you?!"

"You are distraught because you have lost your people. And you think it's my fault. I did nothing to help. Did I?"

He took a breath, so deep that the entire ground shook beneath them. But he did not say a single word.

"Is that what Damita said to you? That's what she told you, isn't it?"

"Yes, that is what Sister Damita said."

"She's right."

"_What?_" Sheik cried. "Zelda, what the hell are you doing?"

"Shh."

"Sister Damita made a compelling argument," the Goron leader grumbled.

"I did nothing to help. Your people went missing and what did I do? Absolutely nothing. And for that I truly have no excuse. I offer my sincerest apologies."

"Apologies will do you no good now, Princess."

"I'm aware of that."

"Then why are you here?"

"To ask you a question."

Darunia crossed his arms, and both he and Sheik narrowed their eyes and stared at her expectantly. It was time for Zelda to truly turn on the charm and do everything in her power to gain his trust.

"What would happen to the Gorons?"

The silence that followed was the exact silence that she wanted.

"What would happen to you if the Royal Family fell? Would you be successful? Have strong alliances? Create more open trade routes?"

Darunia places his hands on his knees and raised an eyebrow. Sheik still had the same dumbfounded expression, but Zelda was on a roll. She couldn't stop now, not with Darunia wrapped around her finger like this.

"No, if the Royal Family fell, it would be the opposite. You would lose all of that. That is what you have with the Royal Family in power."

"It is true that we have been allies for centuries, but things change. The winds have changed."

"But our relationship doesn't have to. Hyrule will fall to pieces if the Royal Family falls, you know that as well as I do. What will you do? Form an alliance with the Rebels? And live on in ruins?"

"How can you be sure that's what will happen?"

"If the Rebels are victorious...there will be no government. There will be no alliances for you to create, no politics in which you can be involved, absolutely nothing but chaos."

"What about my people? My kidnapped brothers and sisters?"

She could see the certainty in his eyes fading.

"I have lost people as well. The Zoras have lost people. We have all lost something." Zelda lowered her voice to a whisper, and her passion came flooding into her voice. "That should be something to bring us _together_, not tear us apart. The Rebels have lost nothing. They have only taken."

Darunia put his face in his hands and began shaking his head, as if trying to awaken from a nightmare.

"Your words are ringing with truth...but I do not know if it is a truth I want to accept. Sister Damita's words also rang with truth."

"Please," Zelda pleaded. She sensed herself slipping into the realm of acting. "Don't think about the anger you feel right now at this moment. Think about the future. What could happen, what couldn't happen, what you can and can't prevent."

"Very well, Princess Zelda. I shall consider your appeal...how do I reach you?"

"Don't worry. When the time comes, you'll know," Zelda smiled.

_Thank the goddesses I was taught to charm well._

Though they didn't receive a definitive answer, she felt victorious when she walked out of Darunia's room. On the way down from Death Mountain, Sheik finally spoke.

"That was insane."

"Eh. It's what princesses do."

"No, like, that was _really_ crazy. Have you ever considered acting?"

"So you saw through me, huh?"

"Like a ghost."

"Well, it's a good thing he didn't."

She smiled at him, but after a few moments, her smile faded because she remembered their situation.

They had the Zora's support. They (hopefully) had the Gorons' support. But Link was in the Rebel camp, her heart was crumbling, and she had just missed the chance to kill the one person that ruined her life. There was a war approaching, a civil war, the one thing she feared the most ravaging her country. It was a war fighting for her right not only to rule, but her right to live. She glanced at Sheik from the corner of her eye.

_I have to stay strong for him and the other Loyalists. I at least have to act strong._

"So, question," he said. "What did you mean when you said you love him?"

"I meant that I love him."

"Like, for real? Or like, love him the way you love me?"

She laughed, amazed that she even had the ability to do that anymore.

"I really don't know how to answer that question."

"All right then, let me ask another..."

Sheik raised an eyebrow and flashed a crooked smile.

"Did you sleep in the same tent, if you know what I mean?"

She felt herself blushing and her heart pounding, and she jokingly shoved him. Then, as they kept walking, she saw him pull out the Master Sword and stare at the Triforce. He chuckled to himself.

"As long as this one glows, right?"

"Right."

* * *

Everything was dark. Everything was dark and smelled of rotten flesh. Blood, warm and fresh, flowed from his wrists where the chains dug into his skin. It flowed down his arms and mixed with the dank sweat. He could hardly lift his head, and the real torture hadn't even begun. Link's hands were chained to two poles in a small tent, right in the middle of the Rebel camp. The breeze was dry and murky, not the kind of breeze he would imagine in a desert. It made him cough, but he couldn't close his mouth. If he closed his mouth, he couldn't breathe. He wished that he could die right there at that moment, just avoid all of the suffering that was to come. But he knew he wouldn't die. He wouldn't die until he wished he had never been born.

"What do you think of my camp?"

The flap of the tent opened, and in a single second, the air became even heavier. He found himself unable to maintain even breathing. It was about to begin.

"It's beautiful, isn't it? The desert is so...liberating, don't you agree?"

He summoned the energy to spit right at the boot-clad feet of the man who was slowly, deliberately walking toward him. He could lift his head just enough to see his intimidating height, his bulky build, the ornamented clothes that he wore. He was almost like a shadow, but his eyes were like fire. Horrible, agonizing fire.

"I must say, Link. I am wonderfully impressed by you."

Ganondorf stepped into a sliver of moonlight and Link saw his face. He had to keep from screaming, not because his face was frightening...but because his face was familiar. Like a face from a recurring nightmare. Then, as if speaking to a lifelong friend, Ganondorf smiled and touched Link's cheek. Gently.

"You're so young."

As soon as Ganondorf's fingertips brushed his cheek, the same pain that he had felt in his hand a couple of days ago, the terrible burning, burst into his skin again. Except it wasn't only in his hand this time. It spread throughout his entire body. He threw his head back and screamed, a sound that began to mingle with Ganondorf's sadistic laughter.

"Doesn't it feel wonderful?" he whispered. "The burning of the Triforce in your skin. This wonderful pain."

He lifted his right hand to reveal a golden triangle shimmering on the surface of his rancid skin. Just looking at it made Link's eyes teary, so misty that he could barely see.

"Th-the Triforce...?" he managed.

"Don't tell me you still don't know, young hero."

Now his mind began to join the pain of his body. Something was sitting inside of his chest waiting to come out, and it felt like the weight of the entire world.

"Ah well. Better that you die not knowing in the end."

Ganondorf stopped stroking his cheek and wrapped his beefy fingers around his neck, so hard that he could sense the bruises beginning to appear. His cackling was infinite, never-ending, resounding in his ears to the point that he wished he were deaf. The torture was about to begin, his slow and painful death was about to commence, and there was nothing he could do. He was forced to stand, shaking and trembling and chained to those poles, grasping for whatever dignity that he could still find. There was so little.

When he closed his eyes, he couldn't decide whose face it was that he saw. Damita's or Zelda's. It was just a face, a beautiful face, and there was a voice. An unbelievably beautiful voice saying his name. And then, just as he was slipping into comfort, Ganondorf's voice sliced through his thoughts.

"Do you know how long I've waited for this?" he hissed, his hands still wrapped around Link's throat. He brought his face inches from Link's. It was so close that he could smell his breath, as disgusting and warm as it was. But he did not turn away. He refused to do it.

"Do you understand how long I've wanted to see you _bleed_? See you die in the worst way that a person can die? Since the day you were born. Since the day I sensed you come into the world, I've wanted to squeeze the life out of you with my bare hands. And you're so beautiful, too. I want to remember how you look right at this moment. Young and beautiful. That way, when you are dead and mangled and hardly look human, I can remember what it is that I did to you. Smile for me, Link. Smile one last time for me."

He wanted so badly to retort. To do what he did best and ruin Ganondorf's plans. To sit and strategize and win. Like he always did. But he could do absolutely nothing but wait for pain. For death. For suffering.

Link wondered how long it would take for him to lose his voice.


	43. Endless Tears

**Hi everyone! I haven't had an author's note in a while and I think it is time for one. **

**I just really want to thank you beautiful, BEAUTIFUL people (like crazy sexy) for continuing to inspire me all the time. Literally, you are all SO wonderful. Thank you to everyone who stuck by me even after that unforgivable hiatus (I'M SORRY) and thank you to all of my new readers, for taking the time to read like 40 chapters. I appreciate it immensely. **

**I promise you I'm back for good this time. The story is almost finished, so never fear! It will end eventually! And I can move on with my life without a guilty conscience! **

**WEE ENJOY THIS CHAPTER I'VE WANTED TO WRITE IT LIKE SINCE STARTING THIS STORY. I POURED MY ENTIRE SOUL INTO THIS ONE. **

**Peace and love forever :3**

* * *

Chapter Forty-Two: Endless Tears

Damita could hear him screaming.

She turned on her side and pulled the blanket higher over her trembling body with some hope that maybe, just maybe, it would help. At that point, she needed anything to drown out the screams. The agonized, pained, loud screams. She turned on her other side and covered her ears, biting her lip so hard that she tasted blood. Maybe if she breathed hard enough it would drown out the screams; maybe if she concentrated _only_ on the sounds of her own breathing. And yet, it was no use. Nothing was of any use. The screams were already inside of her head, not just in her ears. Over and over again in the folds of her horror-ridden imagination the screams rang out, like punishment.

She couldn't let herself cry, not after she had done this. It was nobody's fault but her own.

_No, I should be praising myself. This is...what I want...isn't it?_

The air inside of her tent was clammy and when she tried to breathe in, the scent was overwhelmingly of blood.

He had been screaming for hours. Straight through the night, the screams pierced the silence. Every single Rebel was tossing and turning from those same wails, but she knew she was the only one feeling pain herself. She knew that she wasn't just imagining it. What she felt was true pain, deep in her chest, as if someone with terrible clawed hands was delving into her chest and squeezing the life out of her.

Damita closed her eyes as tightly as possible and tried to imagine his face as she had left it. Gentle, always so gentle. A small smile constantly tugging at the corners of his lips. A touch that was so disarming it made her forget anything and everything but him. A kiss that was like a breath of new life. Something that gave her energy, filled her soul with something untouchable.

Except, that wasn't true. Something was touching it now. She put her hand to her chest and sucked in a breath, felt her body cringe into itself.

The screaming stopped after a while. The silence was a strange kind of solace for her. But the screams were still there, as clear as crystal, in her head. In desperation, she grasped clumps of her hair and pulled, wanting more than anything to feel the pain run from her scalp down to her curled toes. She knew he wasn't dead yet, but that was what frightened her. The hope that was beginning to permeate her mind frightened her.

_After everything, you're going to let yourself slip. Is that it? _

An itch covered every fiber of her skin. Maybe she was the one truly being tortured.

_Yes. You're going to let yourself slip. You have to._

Damita couldn't think about staying strong anymore. She couldn't bring back memories of Nabooru's stories. She couldn't fool herself into believing that she was strong like Nabooru was. And she certainly couldn't fool herself into believing that she didn't need Link to be comfortable living. Breathing. Sleeping.

She waited a couple of minutes before slipping out of bed, grabbing her swords, and poking her head out of the tent. Even the sky seemed as if it were tainted red.

_What did Ganondorf do to you?_

There was nobody outside. They rarely kept guards, seeing as nobody dared come to the desert so late at night, when freezing was just as likely as burning was during the day. The flaps of the other tents were moving slightly in the breeze, but there wasn't a single soul outside. Suppressing her shivers, Damita ran as quickly and as stealthily as she could to the large tent in the center of the camp. If she were seen, her plan would fail. Everything would fail.

But it wasn't a problem. She had nearly perfected the skill of becoming invisible.

As she stood in front of the entrance to the tent, she paused. She had to collect herself, to steel herself for the coming battle—for it would be a battle. She wasn't entirely sure with whom the battle would be, but she knew it would be an uphill one. With clenched fists, pursed lips, and tight jaw, Damita finally stepped inside of the tent where Link was being held.

At first, there was only darkness. And then, as her eyes began to adjust, the sacrificial silhouette began making itself clear. His hands were chained at the wrist to two wooden poles holding the tent up, and he was being held so that his feet couldn't touch the ground. The only things holding him up were the chains, and even in the darkness, she could see the toll they had taken on the tender skin of his wrists. She could hear the shallowness in his breath; it was loud shallowness, loud hollowness. His bare chest was covered in bruises, gashes, burn marks. Anything and everything. His head hung low so she couldn't see his face. For the first time that she could remember, Link looked...defeated. When Damita forced herself to take a step forward, her entire body was trembling.

_Maybe I'm not ready for this._

Then, she heard a laugh. A horrible, dead laugh, and Link's body shook.

"Are you here to taste more of my blood? Go ahead. I hardly have any left."

His voice was barely there. When she heard him speak like that, Damita could control herself no longer.

She leaped forward, placed her hands on his cheeks, and lifted his face. She wanted so badly, so desperately, to look into his eyes and be reassured that there was life in them. Blood smeared itself onto her palms as she held his face and watched his eyes grow wide. The tears began flowing as soon as they made eye contact. From both of their eyes.

"Da...Damita...? Am I dead already?"

She couldn't respond through her sobs. She simply stood, his face in her hands, her forehead against his, wishing that she were dead for this. She was the one who had let them do this to him. It was because of her.

It was all because of her.

"Link, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she finally managed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

He was silent.

"Look at what they've done to you. Look at what _I've_ done to you."

She ran her fingers along every part of his face, as if confirming to herself that he was actually there. He was right there in front of her, looking into her eyes, breathing. He was still alive. After an eternity of his silence, after an eternity of his salty tears, he opened his dry lips and spoke to her. As if he finally realized that she was there in the flesh.

"Get out."

She could feel the energy he was spending by just opening his mouth. By just breathing. The only thing that made her sure it was him was the twinkle in his eyes. Somehow, it was still there. Her fingers moved to his lips, and he closed his eyes at her touch. He did it in the exact same way that he used to.

"No," she said.

"They'll kill you."

"I'm not leaving you."

The strength that pumped through her veins at that moment was abrupt and restless. Before Link could protest again, she swung both of her swords straight through the chains holding him up. The blow left horrible dents in her blades, but it was just barely enough to break through the chains. The moment his wrists were free, he fell to his knees, his back slouched, his head hanging low. Damita let the swords drop from her shaking fingers and knelt in front of him.

"I'm not leaving you. Not again."

She wrapped her arms around him as tightly as she could. Even in the state that he was in, hardly breathing and covered in blood, touching him was a kind of beautiful she couldn't define. Her cheek brushing against his felt familiar, his raspy breath in her ear was comforting, just being in the same room as him calmed the rapid beating of her heart. The tears continued streaming down her face, and her entire body shook with the sobs, but she refused to loosen her grip. She was going to hold him as tightly as she possibly could for as long as she possibly could.

"Please...go."

"No."

"Damita—"

"Stop talking. Please. Just let me hold you and pretend you're okay. Please."

"I wish..."

"Shh."

"...I had the energy to hold you, too."

Damita began to cry harder. This was like a dream and a nightmare all wrapped into one. She began to pull away so that she could look into his eyes again, but as soon as she loosened her grip, he began shaking his head with what little energy he had.

"Don't let go."

"I won't let go," she murmured. "Not ever."

"You're...so warm."

"Link."

She finally managed to pull away and look into his misty eyes. They were fluttering, and he seemed as if he were trying so hard to look at her. Her fingers began weaving through his clumped, knotted hair, wiping the sweat and blood from his brow, lightly brushing his eyelashes.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. For everything. For _anything._"

Slowly, Damita began leaning forward. She was so nervous. Maybe if she held on too tightly he would just disappear. Maybe somewhere inside, he hated her. He wanted her dead.

"Damita?"

"Yes?"

Her mouth brushed his.

"She said...you want me dead."

Their lips still fit perfectly together. She was as gentle as she could manage because she knew how little strength he had, but she wished that he could kiss her back. She wished that he had the energy to wrap his arms around her and squeeze. She wished that he would open his mouth and say, with the same conviction he used to, "I love you." But he couldn't.

"Stop talking," she breathed. "Stop wasting your energy."

"Damita."

"Please—"

"I miss you."

She hadn't cried so hard since her first day at the Rebel camp.

"Don't say that. You're breaking my heart."

There was his crooked smile, the one that used to make her knees buckle.

"You already broke mine."

"Stop it, please."

He let his head fall against her shoulder, and the heaviness of it all was overwhelming. She knew that he was almost as weak as he could get. The one person that she loved more than anything was on the brink of death. His breathing was even shallower than when she first found him and, at that moment, she found herself suddenly having trouble breathing as well. She helped him lay down and cradled his head in her lap, wondering if he could even see her when he stared up like that.

"You owe me...answers."

A laugh, dry and humorless, escaped her lips.

"I owe you a lot more than just answers."

He reached up his arm and she saw the pain written on his features, saw it in the way his arm shook like an earthquake. But he reached up anyway and, with his bloody fingertips, touched her hair.

"Just tell me why you never came back," he croaked. "...Tell me why you stayed here."

It was the one question she had been dreading. She used to know the answer so well and be confident in her choices and position. Lately, that certainty had all but vanished, leaving her questioning whether she should've been remorseful. Guilty. Had she been right to stay?

"I've been asking myself that question lately, too."

"Please, Damita...tell me."

Her silvery strand of hair slipped from his fingers as she turned her head, unable to bear that look of utter sadness on his face. When she opened her mouth and spoke, she couldn't recall ever hearing her voice so distorted. It couldn't have been her speaking...could it?

"I stayed because I believe in this cause," she sighed. "I don't believe in the Royal Family anymore. I don't believe in the tyranny. Did I ever?"

"...Tyranny?"

"I didn't really have a choice in the beginning, you know?"

She began undoing the knots in his hair and wiping the blood from his cheeks, wishing all the while that he would stop breaking her heart with his expression.

"I don't understand."

"When you found me, you were already a Loyalist. I left one life and was born right into another. I didn't have the chance to decide if I wanted to even _be_ a Loyalist, I just...was one."

The collection of tears on the edges of his eyes grew thicker and thicker with each word she said.

_I don't know how much longer I can stand this._

"You never really...believed? In our cause?" he murmured.

Damita closed her eyes and tried to squeeze out of the darkness, into some kind of light that would give her answers. Any kind of answers.

"Don't ask me that, because I don't know if I ever believed. I don't even know if I believe this."

"Then why? Why...stay?"

"Ganondorf made me believe. He made me believe in the fight against Princess Zelda."

"Didn't _I _make you believe?"

"Link, stop, please—"

"You fought so hard for our cause."

"I—"

"I loved you more than anything. And you left. For what?"

A sword, sharp and filled with poison, dug itself into her heart when he uttered those words. The physical pain became too real, and without warning, she doubled over until her forehead was against his chest, and she felt as if her stomach was about to burst.

"When did you stop?" she whispered, barely able to force the words from her mouth. "Loving me...When did you stop?"

There was a silence then, a silence that left her alone in pain for what seemed like forever. And then, like a miracle, a small ray of light shining down from the palms of the goddesses, she felt his fingers in her hair once more. At that point, she wasn't sure if she was crying in relief or sorrow or overflowing love. All she knew was that the tears were endless. She pressed her lips against his torn, scarred chest, as if she were praying.

"Forever. Remember?" she said. His chest rose for a single moment and then dropped back down.

"Is there such a thing?" he finally said. "I can't see it anymore. All I see...is death. Death and you."

"Please don't say that."

"You're so beautiful."

"Stop talking."

"I never stopped."

She paused.

"...What?"

"I never stopped loving you, Damita."


	44. An Assassin's Heart

Chapter Forty-Three: An Assassin's Heart

Damita wasn't sure how she was going to manage, but she needed to get him out of camp. If she didn't do it soon, Ganondorf would kill him. And he would kill her, too.

Although she had already accepted the fact that he was going to kill her.

Link, with his head still in her lap, had fallen asleep in exhaustion. She couldn't bring herself to move even a single inch. The conversation kept repeating in her head, and she convinced herself after hearing it over and over and she was a horrible person. None of this would have happened if she had left. If she hadn't stayed at this camp...

And yet, she still couldn't decide if she truly believed.

Was she a Rebel, or a Loyalist, or neither?

She thought of her first day as a Rebel, the day she made that decision...

* * *

Ganondorf did not put her back in her cell. After dismissing the executioner and sending the guards, cowering, back to their quarters, he helped her to her feet. She glared up at him, wanting so badly to break through the rope binding her hands together and rip him apart. He had taken everything from her, and he still had the nerve to stand before her with a smile and say her name. As if he had been her friend for years. Within one day, he had simply crushed everything in her life beneath his feet. She knew, one way or another, that she was never leaving this camp.

_I might never see him again._

"Come, darling. Let me show you my camp."

"I don't want to see your camp. I'd rather die."

He clicked his tongue and began shaking his head, as if he were a mother scolding a misbehaving child. Damita's skin was crawling.

"Don't be so dramatic. You'll like it, I promise."

With no choice but to bite her tongue and hold back her disgusted retorts, Damita let him grab her arm and drag her beside him, outside of the tent and into the hot desert sun. She glared up at the sky with narrowed eyes, cursing the goddesses for allowing this horror to befall her. They were the ones who had done this to her. They were the ones who had allowed for everything she cared about to crumble.

_I didn't get to say goodbye. I hope you're all happy up there watching me rot._

"Isn't the desert beautiful?" he whispered, breathing in the sultry air. "Invigorating?"

"The wind..." she paused. There was a strange sensation filling her body as the desert wind blew past. "...it smells like death."

"You have a good nose. A good sense of death."

His grip on her arm tightened until she held her breath to keep from whimpering. There would be bruises there, she knew.

"In fact, you would make a beautiful assassin."

"Don't mock me."

"Oh, rest assured that I'm serious, Damita," Ganondorf spat, suddenly turning to face her. "I am very serious. Why do you think I didn't kill you?"

"I haven't the slightest idea."

She raised her eyebrows defiantly, pursing her lips and staring straight into his fiery eyes. A smirk crawled onto his lips, making his face glimmer like a monster beneath the revealing rays of the burning desert sun. He looked truly evil—but there was passion. Damita stumbled back at his expression, suddenly extremely frightened. That sparkle of passion, the ferocity written across his features...it was the same passion, the same ferocity she had seen so often on Link's face. That thought scared her.

"Of course you do," he sneered. "I didn't kill you because I need you. And you need me."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I wouldn't need you if I were starving and you offered me the feast of a king."

"Watch your tongue."

"I'm too busy watching a monster."

"Answer me this, Damita," he continued, his smile never faltering. "Why were you a Loyalist?"

"Why _am_ I a Loyalist?"

"No. Why _were_ you a Loyalist."

Damita opened her mouth, ready to give him her answer and take death, but the words that she was anticipating never appeared. Only silence hung in the air between them, not the explanation she wanted so badly for him to hear. But she realized, after what seemed like an eternity of her deafening silence, that there was no explanation. She didn't know why she was a Loyalist.

"That's what I thought," he said.

"I'm a Loyalist because I believe in Link," she finally blurted. It was the one thing she could think to say at that moment. She needed anything.

"In Link, not the cause."

"I—"

"Do you know _why_ you don't believe in the Loyalist cause, Damita?"

Ganondorf's face was suddenly inches from hers, but she felt no desire to draw back. She was suddenly empty, like a shell that had been hollowed, left to be filled with whatever there was remaining in the rubble around her. Confidence in her own thoughts, confidence in who she was, seeped out of her and left her slouched and pale and shriveling.

"It's not worth believing in."

"But—"

"You know as well as I do that it's not. The Royal Family has reigned for too long. A new rule is on its way, I assure you, my darling."

He grabbed Damita's arm once more and began walking, leaving her stumbling over her own feet in an attempt to keep up. At that point, Damita wasn't even sure about her own emotions. They were so ambiguous, to the point that she was questioning her own loyalty to Link. Not her love. No, never her love. Just her loyalty.

"Look around you," he commanded.

His voice was firm and hoarse. It was the voice of a leader. She obeyed, letting her eyes wander around her. She saw tents rising from the sand, men and women sweating and bleeding and speaking, watching Ganondorf with admiration, struggling to survive and struggling to be strong. She wanted to see rats. Slime. Trash. People with evil in their eyes. But she saw souls who had been betrayed by something. Souls who wanted exactly what she wanted: love, life, success, freedom. Things which all souls had the right to have.

"What do you see?"

"People."

"Are they Loyalists?"

"No."

"Are they Rebels?"

"Y-yes."

"You stuttered."

"I suppose I did."

"They're not what you imagined. Is that it?"

Damita thought that her knees were going to give out on her and she was just going to crumble right there. Was everything she had ever been told a lie? Were these people truly evil, devilish, out only for the blood of an innocent family that had rightfully ruled Hyrule for centuries?

Link had told her that. He had said that Rebels are wrong, horrible people who want to see nothing but blood on their palms.

Maybe she had never noticed the blood on _his_ palms. She had seen it be smeared there, seen it taint his fingers, but had she really never truly noticed it?

"You feel pain," he murmured. She gathered the courage to glance up at him, and she saw those emotions again. The passion, the ferocity, the face of a born leader. Damita's heart was beginning to implode. "You feel pain because your family was taken from you. Your life. Everything."

"How _dare_ you—?"

"You are one of us, Damita. Hurting, bleeding. And you need revenge."

"Are you trying to tell me...?"

He smiled again, but it was a cynical smile. Dripping with hatred fueled by something so strong Damita never could have imagined what it was.

"Yes. It is the fault of the Royal Family that your own family is dead. They rule in luxury while we are left to die, to live on crumbs. That is hardly acceptable."

His grip on her arm tightened again, but Damita could do nothing. She could only stand and wonder how these thoughts had never crossed her own mind.

Link had been wrong.

It was the Loyalists' fault. The Royal Family's fault. That her family was dead.

She didn't sleep that night. She struggled to even keep breathing. She missed him so much she thought she was going to die.

But she was ready for a new life with a new leader. It was time to smear her own palms with the blood that would ultimately cleanse Hyrule forever. Maybe if she tried to speak to him, if she tried to contact him and make him understand.

No. He would never understand...

* * *

As Damita sat, cradling Link and lost in her regrets, she heard footsteps behind her. They were light, delicate footsteps that would've hardly left a mark, even in the sand.

"I knew I would find you here."

"Well then, I knew that you find me here."

"Are you crazy?"

"No. I'm weak."

"You're stupid. Really, really stupid."

Nabooru knelt down beside her, refusing to remove her steely eyes from Damita's face. She hated feeling those golden irises digging into her face, burning marks into her brain. The inability to look her best friend in the face was sudden and overwhelming. Her grip on Link's hair tightened.

"I couldn't sleep."

"Yeah, well, nobody could."

"No, Nabooru, you don't get it," she hissed. "I couldn't sleep. I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe."

"Don't give me that bullshit. There are so many things wrong with this I don't know where to begin," Nabooru sighed.

She put her fingers beneath Damita's chin and forced her to turn her face, so that she had nowhere to look but Nabooru's eyes. Damita couldn't keep the tears from flowing directly onto Nabooru's hand.

"I know."

"Yeah, you _better_ know. First of all, we talked about this. Trying to overcome your emotions, right? I even told you the story of me and Ganondorf. Not to mention the fact that you put me through hell to get this kid here. I nearly got shot in the face, mind you. The princess doesn't have bad aim. Damita, darling, you're the one who told me to bring him here. So that he could die. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Damita ripped her face from Nabooru's grip and began shaking her head. The shadows in her mind were growing darker and darker, and there was almost no light to provide her with the solace she so desperately needed.

"Nabooru," she breathed, "I don't know what I want anymore. I don't know who I am anymore. I don't know anything."

She could tell Nabooru was frustrated. But that only made her hold more tightly, only made her want to be with him more passionately. At that point, nothing was going to keep her from saving his life.

"You have to stop thinking about what other people want," Nabooru finally said.

She sounded hurt, and Damita could see it on her expression; what she was saying was like a sacrifice, something she knew had to be said but was killing her inside. That made Damita die inside, too.

"Don't think about what Ganondorf believes. Don't think about what Link believes. Don't think about what...I believe. What do you believe?"

"Everyone keeps asking me that question, and I just don't have an answer—"

"Yes you do. You have to. Otherwise, you would be dead. Every living person has something they believe in, something that gives them the fire to keep living. I believe that with every fiber of my being," Nabooru argued.

Her face was like stone, and when she reached out and touched Damita's arm, her fingers burned like fire. Her words began to sink in, deeply, until Damita felt a hole being buried in her head. She could feel nothing but blind pain.

"You have to choose, Damita. If you don't, then there only be one outcome."

"Death."

"Do you know what deciding means?" Nabooru's whisper was like a knife slicing through the silence and into Damita's flesh. "Moving on. Leaving him behind."

"I can't let him die," she murmured, more to herself than to anyone. More to the goddesses as a plea. "Can I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"If Ganondorf were dying, being tortured, right in front of you...would you let him die?"

The Gerudo closed her eyes and turned away, as if she had been expecting a question like that. Damita wasn't about to accept silence as an answer.

"_Would you?" _

"No. Of course not."

"Then why do you expect me to let Link die?"

"Because, Damita, you're the one who ordered him here in the first. It's your fault he's dying!"

"Don't say that."

"What do you want me to say? Huh?"

"Nabooru."

"What."

"I need your help."

"What do you want me to do now, chop Ganondorf's head off for you?"

"Buy me time— just enough to figure out what I want."

"All right. I'll give you enough time to go, save the Loyalist leader's life, sleep with him for a couple of nights, come back, and beg for Ganondorf's forgiveness. Sounds reasonable. Maybe by that time you'll have realized your true place."

Nabooru's sarcasm was painful—Damita felt her best friend slipping away, and she wasn't sure if she could bear losing another person that she loved. Nabooru stood up, brushing the sand from her legs and glaring down at her. Damita stared up with trembling lips and a protective air about her, slightly frightened that if she turned around for one second, Nabooru would slit Link's throat. Or anybody else would, for that matter.

"I love you, Nabooru," she whispered. "Please don't do this to me."

"That's your problem, Damita," Nabooru replied. Her voice had gone from cynical to terribly strained, as if she were forcing every word through a silent barrier of sobs. "You love too much. You pour your soul into everything without thinking. How do you have the heart to kill so mercilessly, yet love like nobody I've ever met?"

"I don't know..."

Nabooru bent down and placed her lips onto Damita's forehead, a wonderfully wordless apology.

"Filled with such lonely love," Nabooru said. "Is that what an assassin's heart is truly like?"


	45. A Lonely Insanity

Chapter Forty-Four: A Lonely Insanity

"Zelda."

"Zelda."

"Zelda."

Damita's eyes grew wide. The name flickered from his lips and into the air around her, and when she looked at Nabooru with her fear-filled eyes, her friend simply stared down at her with pity written on her face.

_She knows._

Her fingers, which had been tenderly stroking his cheeks, suddenly became tight against the hair in his scalp. She stared at his lips, waited for confirmation that her ears had been deceiving her. And then, as he breathed out in that raspy, deathly way, the name came again in his unconscious voice.

"Zelda."

"Nabooru," she murmured, "what's happening?"

"Damita—"

"Why is he saying her name?"

She felt like there was poison entering her ears, forcing streams of blood to seep out into her hair and onto her skin. Each letter, each syllable, suddenly each breath he took was like a stab that made her heart shrivel that much more. Here he was, lying in her lap with the look of death on his face, and he was saying _her_ name. The one that Damita had wanted dead for so long.

"When I captured him," Nabooru began. Her voice was so soft that it hurt Damita even more. "She was there with him. And, you knew he would protect her, but—"

"But what?"

She was expecting a fatal blow.

"But the way he looked at her. The way he looked at _me_ as I held the sword to her neck."

"Stop, please. I can't hear this..."

His eyelids fluttered, as if he were dreaming, and that was when Damita crumbled, lost control of her limbs, disappeared into a void of such hatred and malice that she became blind with rage. When she closed her eyes, she saw the face of the girl whose name continued to slide through his lips, and she wanted her dead.

_Dead, dead, dead. _

_ He's mine._

She wrapped her arms around him and held him as tightly as she could, because she knew he was slipping away from her. Once she let go, he was going to leave her. She couldn't bear the thought of that, not after so much time struggling to continue living without him. Going through the pain, the horrible torture all over again.

_I can't do this._

"Damita, he—"

"Don't say it, I'm begging you."

She knew what Nabooru wanted to say.

_He loves her._

It was floating in the air around them silently, hovering and taunting and feeding the fire of Damita's horrible, unadulterated hatred. She had never hated anything so much in her life. As she held him tightly against her, she felt his body respond to her touch, curl into her, lean his head against her chest. Her tears spilled into his hair like sacrifices of her soul to his.

"Darling, you have to let go."

"Leave."

The words came out before she could stop them, but once they were out, she believed in them.

"What?" Nabooru murmured.

"Get out."

"But—"

"_Leave!"_

She didn't want to watch Nabooru leave, so she let her face fall against his head and relished in the aching of her bones. Everything was painful, everything was dark, everything she saw was blood.

Damita realized at that moment that she had finally cracked. She had let her love for him drive her into complete insanity. There was no going back. There was nothing more for her to do but succumb to that insanity, understanding well that there was no way he could love her back.

Loving her back meant descending into his own type of insanity.

And Damita simply would not allow that.

She would not allow for Link to go insane with love just as she was at that moment.

It was too painful.

So she decided, then and there, that she had a new goal.

She no longer wanted to destroy Princess Zelda for the sake of Hyrule—for the sake of the Rebels.

She wanted to destroy Princess Zelda because of what she had done to her. To Link. She wanted to destroy Princess Zelda because there was nothing she hated more in the world. She wanted to tear her limb from limb, watch her drown in the pool of her own blood.

And then Damita could die before Link had the chance to love her again.

_So, I have two new goals._

To keep Link from falling in love with her...and to kill Princess Zelda.

At that moment, Damita stared death in its hideous, cackling face. It seemed as if it had been expecting her for a while. And then she said, "Come."

* * *

Zelda and Sheik received a warm welcome at camp, but the feelings of relief and excitement quickly faded. As if they were never there. They stared at the two of them, huddled closely together, next to the spirit of the third. There was silence and an atmosphere of pure sadness, pure tragedy.

"Our leader."

"The one who gave us purpose."

"He's gone..."

"...Forever?"

Zelda told them what she had told Sheik. She told them that Link was alive, he was going to survive, he was going to be back at camp before they could blink. He wouldn't leave them like this, he wouldn't die and force them to fend for themselves in the face of such horror. By that time, everyone already knew that war was coming. What Darunia had said was right: war was in the winds. They blew strongly across the entirety of Hyrule, bringing the smell of blood and images stained with red.

Her mind, which only days ago had been a source of hope and happiness and the promise of such a beautiful love, was suddenly plagued with fears beyond imagination. As she sat in the infirmary of the Loyalist camp, letting her wounds be treated and her story be told, Link was in the middle of a desert, no doubt struggling to survive. The Rebels were preparing for an all-out war. The citizens of Hyrule were stuck in a perpetual cycle of fear and the threat of absolute anarchy. They needed a ruler. And she was hiding away, in the middle of a forest, while the man she loved was across the country.

_I hardly understand what's happening anymore. _

She heard familiar, delicate footsteps and looked up to see Sheik walking in. Ilia greeted him absentmindedly, her eyes glued to the wounds on Zelda's arm. He looked as if he hadn't slept in days, as if he hadn't been free of worry for years, as if he had aged ten years in a house of fear. Zelda smiled and reached out her hand. He let her stroke his fingers, keeping her eyes firmly on his, never letting her smile falter.

Link's presence was still strong inside of her. The hope was still strong. It was just a little bit hard to see for everybody else. Sheik sat down beside her but was silent—something horribly unusual for someone like him. Zelda wanted so badly to see him smile.

"Stop looking so sad, please," she sighed. "He'll be fine."

"I-I know, it's just hard without him."

"You don't sound convinced."

"It's weird putting my best friend's life in the hands of a glowy triangle."

"You trust me, don't you?"

"Of course I do."

"Then smile for me."

She squeezed his hand and watched him force a smile. At that point, she didn't care if it was forced. Just as long as it was there.

"You need sleep," she added.

"You do, too."

"Yes."

They slept in the same bed that night in the infirmary, where they had fallen asleep after some kind of crazy medicine Ilia had forced down their reluctant throats. Zelda needed his warmth, and she knew that he needed hers. They had become each other's support system, their way of knowing that no matter what happened, somebody loved them. But that night, as she slept in Sheik's arms, she had another dream...

_ There is screaming, and Zelda is staring out of a window. She is watching chaos ensue right outside of her castle. Pain and torture fills the air, and the fountain no longer sputters beautiful streams of water. It is sputtering poisonous streams of blood. Mothers, fathers, husbands, wives, children, the elderly. Everyone has a weapon, and everyone is fighting. Everyone is dying. She feels a soft, steady hand on her shoulder, and turns away from the window. She doesn't know whose hand it is, but the touch is unfamiliar. _

_ Zelda moves her gaze to the face of the person standing beside her. It is the girl with the silver hair and fierce green eyes, with her hand laid gently on the princess's shoulder. Only when Zelda looks into the assassin's eyes does she feel fear. Still, this girl is bright. She is surrounded by a golden light, and her smile is like that of an angel's. Zelda smiles back, and her smile is genuine. There is a strange desire within her to be one with this girl._

_ Then, in the silence, a voice rings out. It doesn't say anything—it doesn't call her name, it doesn't call the assassin's name, it just...calls out. The two women turn their heads to find Link, dressed in the garb of the hero, standing before them. He bears a smile as well, the beautiful kind of smile that brightens an entire room. Zelda knows that behind her, outside the window, the slaughter is ongoing. But inside, watching Link's smile and seeing her face reflected in his eyes, she can think only of him and the assassin, Damita. _

_ Link holds both of his hands out. At the same moment, Zelda and Damita lift their hands and place them in his...but before he can grab hold of their fingers, they slip through, as if his hands were never there at all. Zelda feels confusion begin to spread throughout the room and she clenches her fist, watches the girl beside her do the same. And then, Link opens his mouth and speaks. _

_ "Only one." _

_ Zelda looks at Damita, and Damita looks at Zelda. The warmth between them fades as suddenly as it had come, leaving only bitter coldness hanging in the air. Then, Link points to the window. _

_ "Pick one to stop it." _

_ Before Zelda has the chance to reach forward and grasp for his hand once more, Damita lifts her dainty fingers, and things begin to move in slow motion. The light surrounding her grows brighter, brighter, until Zelda is nearly blinded. She stumbles backward and suddenly becomes a spectator, a spirit, a mere presence watching the events unfurl before her. Damita's hand sits perfectly in Link's, and the light passes from her palm to his. _

_ When Zelda turns to look out of the window, the chaos has ended. The war is over. There is no more blood. She smiles, relieved, and then begins to sob. _

As her eyes flew open, Zelda jolted up to the sound of her own screams. She was vaguely aware of Sheik wrapping his arms around her as she continued to tremble, to see the images flashing before her eyes, to sweat as if she had been running for days under the sun.

"Shh, it was just a dream. It was just a dream."

Zelda began shaking her head as vehemently as she could, until Sheik placed his chin on top of her head and squeezed her to his chest.

"It's never just a dream," she breathed. "It can't be."

"It was," he whispered.

She couldn't bring herself to believe that. Every inch of her skin was burning, she could hardly force the breaths from her mouth, she heard her heart pounding in her ears, and still she shivered. He continued whispering in her ear, telling her that it was only a dream, trying to calm her down. As tears began spilling from her eyes, Zelda's dramatic tremors died down, and she grasped his arms as if her life depended on them. After what seemed like years trying to erase the bloody, poisonous pictures from her mind, she simply sat, quivering like a child, in his arms. She hardly knew where she was, what was happening, why she had dreamt something so horrible.

"We're...in the infirmary."

"Yes."

"Back at camp..."

"Yes."

"It was just a dream."

"Just a dream, babe. Just a dream."

But it wasn't just a dream. Deep in her bones, she knew it wasn't. The power of ancient wisdom pulsing through her veins told her that it wasn't. With a heavy sigh, she loosened her claw-like grip on his arms and slouched against him.

"It wasn't just a dream, Sheik."

Her mind had finally settled down and had a hold of reality. She understood what was happening, where she was, and she even understood the warnings of her dream. They frightened her.

"What do you mean?"

"My dreams, they're like prophecies," she began. It was dark and there was nobody else in the tent. When she glanced up, she could hardly see his face. "They mean something."

She felt him sigh.

"What did you dream about, Zelda?"

"I dreamt about Link. And about war. And about..." Her voice trailed off as she remembered that face, in all of its beauty and horror.

"What else?"

"About Damita."

Sheik pulled away so that he could look into her eyes. She swallowed nervously, grateful for his sturdy grip around her. There was still that shaking in her limbs. Even her voice trembled when she spoke.

"About Damita? What about her?"

"I think she's the key," she whispered. "She and Link are the keys."

She saw him begin to smile in disbelief, as if what she were saying was very funny in a terrible way.

"The keys to...?"

Zelda couldn't keep herself from shaking her head again, hard, as if trying to erase the images from her mind.

"I don't know, I don't know."

"Stop doing that, you're scaring me."

He put his hands on either side of her head to keep her from shaking it so hard. Her tears spilled onto his thumbs.

"He chose _her_," she murmured. Sheik's grip softened. "He chose her instead of me. And if he had chosen me, the war wouldn't have stopped. It's because of her. He chose her."

"Listen, I don't care about all of this weird voodoo stuff, all right?" he sighed. "A dream is a dream. There's no war right now."

"But there will be."

The shaking in Zelda's voice stopped, and her tone became low and dark. She could hardly recognize her own voice as it slithered from her dry lips. Everything was dark. The wisdom pulsed within her. She felt its power engulfing her entirely.

"There will be war. And they are the keys. He needs to love her."

"Zelda—"

"If he loves me, Hyrule will be destroyed," she said.

Princess Zelda looked into his eyes and the tears were gone. There was only strength, resignation, determination left. She grabbed his wrists and lifted his hands from her face, placed them in her lap.

"As much as I love him, he can never love me. Even if..."

"Even if he does?"

The tears that she was expecting didn't come. She was already too accepting of the facts.

"Even if he does," she nodded. "He can't."

Sheik bit his lower lip and avoided her eyes.

"Sheik. Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"How in love were they?" she said. He still wouldn't look into her eyes. "Link and Damita, I mean. How in love were they? I want to know."

"They were like..." he paused, mulled over the question. "They were like a bow and arrow. You couldn't really have one without the other, I guess. They motivated each other. They held each other up. Link was Damita's entire world, and Damita was Link's entire world. It was that kind of love. You know, the kind that everybody can feel."

"That's why he couldn't kill her that night," she murmured, "when she attacked Shad. That's why he couldn't even touch her."

"Link and Damita..." Sheik laughed, as if reliving the memories was so hard it forced the sound from his throat. "I thought they were meant to be. But she left and she never came back, and nobody knows why. Not even Link."

"They _are_ meant to be," Zelda replied. "They are."

Suddenly, she felt Sheik's fingers beneath her chin as he lifted her head up. The smile on his face was so gentle, so comforting.

"No. I don't think they are."

"Why not?"

"They're too similar. They're both stupid as hell, they're both stubborn, they both love too purely."

"What's wrong with loving purely?"

He paused, but this time, he kept his eyes directly on hers.

"Nothing, I guess. But they let it consume them, destroy them, really, from the inside out. That's why he's the way that he is. He throws himself completely into anything that he does, and more often than not, those things break, and he's left alone again."

"They forgot themselves," she said. "When they decided to love each other, they forgot themselves. He became part of her and she became part of him."

Sheik exhaled, and his face was so close to hers that she could feel the warmth of his breath.

"Yeah. That's a good way to put it."

"Sheik?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm really scared."

"Of what?"

"Forgetting myself."

"You won't forget yourself," he whispered.

"What if I already did? When I decided to love him?"

"You didn't."

"How do you know?"

"Because you're here," he said. His thumb moved from the edge of her chin to her lips, tracing their outlines. "You're here, you're strong, you know who you are."

"...Do I?" she murmured as her eyes slowly closed.

"Yes."

She felt his lips hovering, dancing over hers. And then, as she sucked in a slow, deep breath, he kissed her. And when he pulled away, his mouth still grazing hers, she was even more breathless than before.

* * *

**Okay so before you go crazy hear me out please. As I was writing this chapter this strange moment here at the end just kind of happened and I didn't really want it to but then my fingers typed whatever they wanted (I gave no consent whatsoever) and it just seemed right and now I'm publishing it and AH PLEASE DON'T KILL ME. I just feel like in real life, in that kind of real situation, that's what would happen. **

**Do with it what you will. **

**Mkay thanks for reading leave a review (preferably one that doesn't make me cry) I love you kbye.**


	46. Beautiful Hell

**Now during my career as a FanFiction writer, there are very few chapters that I have written and genuinely hated...**

**...This being one of those chapters. (-_-')**

**And on that note, enjoy!**

**(it gets better I swear)**

* * *

Chapter Forty-Five: Beautiful Hell

Link could feel himself slipping in and out of consciousness. When his vision would come to him in periods of a couple moments, he would feel a horrible ache throughout his entire body. But he would also see her face and feel her hair and relish in the burning sensation of her hands against his skin, and he was conscious enough to know that it was worth it. Then, after mere seconds of painful bliss, he would slip back into his deep, trembling slumber and see a different face. A beautiful one, too. A soft one. And all the while, his heart was awake and bleeding and screaming for some kind of respite from the torture, from the weight of one hundred worlds being placed ungraciously upon it.

He could hear Damita's voice, but it sounded strange. Distant.

"You're gonna be okay, Link," she was saying.

"Just stay strong for me, Link," she was saying.

"I love you so much, Link," she was saying.

He felt as if he were moving as she spoke. He could see the ground moving beneath him when he opened his eyes and then closed them again. But he couldn't keep his eyes open long enough or his mind alert long enough to understand what was happening. There were two very clear things: Damita's face when he opened his eyes, and Zelda's face when he closed his eyes.

In and out.

_Just breathe in, breathe out. _

Darkness and light.

Warmth and cold.

_In and out._

_ In and out._

_ In and out._

After an unimaginable length of time, a space in limbo that Link was completely unaware of, he felt water being splashed on his face, and finally, his eyes burst open and he saw the world as it was. He was laying on the ground, but when he grasped at it with his fingers, he felt grass instead of sand. Damita's face was still above him and her arms were still around him, like a blanket.

When his vision became clear, the first thing he did was smile.

"Hey, beautiful."

She smiled back.

"Hi."

He used what energy he had to grab her hand, bring it to his lips, sway with the rhythm of her breathing. Her skin was sweet. Familiar. It was like water after years, decades, centuries of drought. But there was something wrong. There were tears in her eyes. They made him angry. Here she was, beautiful and angelic with her sweet skin and warm arms, but she was crying—he couldn't make sense of it. He couldn't make sense of anything.

"Why are you crying, Damita?" he asked. He reached up to touch her lips.

"I'm not crying," she replied. But he heard it in her voice, too.

"Yes you are. Tell me why so I can help."

"I don't think you can help, love."

"Why not?"

"Because you can't change fate," she said.

"Damita, don't you remember? You're the one who told me that you can. That you have control over your own fate, right?"

"That was five years ago."

"You haven't changed all that much in five years."

She laughed, and that made Link laugh, too. As he let his fingers wander along her lips, her cheeks, her wet eyes, he suddenly felt very tired.

"Can you tell me that you love me again, please?" he said.

Damita leaned down and placed her lips on his forehead, and her hair tickled him, just as it always used to.

"I love you so much," she murmured. "I love you more than you'll ever know."

Link's sense of his surroundings was returning to him. The fog around his mind was lifting, his emotions were coming back into check, everything was beginning to make sense—though it was only a little bit—again. He finally understood what was happening, what had happened, who it was kissing him. With heavy breathing and the desperate need to control himself, calm himself down, he managed to sit up. He found himself facing the vast waters of Lake Hylia as the ripples danced in the light of the rising sun.

Every time he moved, he felt pain. But it was nothing compared with the emotional pain he was about to feel. He sensed it coming, and when he looked at the angel, the one he still couldn't believe was there, he saw it in her eyes.

"Damita."

"What?"

She placed her hands at the base of his neck but wouldn't keep eye contact. There was something strange about the way she was acting, something that made him wonder if it even was her.

_Maybe I really am dreaming._

"Why am I here?"

"I brought you here."

"Why?"

"Because they were going to kill you."

Fear, unlike anything he had ever felt before, exploded inside of him.

"But now they're going to kill _you_."

She began shaking her head.

"No. He won't kill me. Not yet."

Link grabbed her face and turned it so that she was forced to look into his eyes.

"What are you talking about? What's going on? You're not leaving me again...?"

And then, Damita smiled her beautiful, charming smile.

It was a smile that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

"I have to."

As they sat there on the edge of Lake Hylia, bathed in the warmth of sunrise, everything fell apart for Link. He threw his arms around her and pulled her in, buried his face in her neck, begged her not to go. He told her countless times how much he loved her, how he couldn't bear for her to leave again, how it would kill him if she left. He couldn't tell which tears were his and which were hers and every inch of his body seared in pain, but he wouldn't let go.

_I can't let go again._

"Link, you know I love you, don't you?"

"You can't leave me, you can't, not again, I won't let you—"

"You have to go back to your camp, Link. You can make it."

"If you leave, I don't know what will happen."

"And I have to go back to my camp, too."

"I can't go through the torture, not again. You _can't_ leave. I love you too much. If you leave, I'll...I'll..."

He didn't know what would happen if she left. He wasn't sure if death would be the correct way to describe the pain he anticipated. The words that left his lips were out of his control at that point, flowing out like the waterfall flowing into the lake by which they lay.

"Let go of me, Link."

"No."

"I love you, but you have to let go."

He squeezed harder.

"No. Not again."

So for a while longer, Link and Damita sat in each other's arms, crying together, uttering vows of eternal love, while knowing that the separation was happening just as it had happened before. Link felt himself sliding into a state of complete and utter inner turmoil. He no longer understood anything. He couldn't discern any of the thoughts running rampant in his head. All he knew was that he couldn't let go.

But eventually, Link did let go. And when he did, Damita kissed his lips one more time, told him not to worry-she would see him soon. He watched her walk away, sat in debilitating misery, and finally forced himself to begin the long, painful trek back to camp as blood continued to drip from the tears in his skin and heart.

As he stumbled along the paths through Hyrule Field, past Castle Town, avoiding the passersby and holding back his urges to scream, the cracks in his shell sealed, and he curled up inside it once more.

* * *

"What was that for?" she whispered.

Sheik shrugged, put his hands behind his head, closed his eyes, and lay back down on the bed. Zelda blinked a few times, as if waking up from a dream, and stared at him.

"I don't know. It seemed like you needed it. Hell, _I_ needed it."

She just continued to stare at him. Her confusion at that moment was strange and immense. She didn't know what else to do but stare at him and catch her breath. He opened one of his eyes and looked up at her.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked.

"Because you didn't answer my question."

"Yes I did."

"Why did you kiss me?" she urged.

With a sigh, he closed his eyes again.

"I don't really know. It felt like the right thing to do."

Zelda, strangely satisfied by that answer, lay back down in the bed and let her head rest against his chest. Sheik had a nice rhythm when he breathed—it was natural, soft, loving.

"I think I did need it," she said.

"Yup."

"Where did you even learn how to kiss like that?"

"Are you seriously asking me that question."

"Just curious," she laughed.

Both of them lay there wondering how they could possibly be so light-hearted, how they could possibly find it within them to laugh, in such a situation. They heaved one big sigh, a sigh that seemed to move the entire world.

"Can I ask you a question now, Zelda?"

"Of course."

"Do you love him? For real?"

This time, it was Zelda who shrugged.

"I don't know how real it is. Can you really claim to love someone when you know absolutely nothing about them?"

"But you know everything about him," Sheik murmured.

"Why do you say that?"

"There's something about the way you talk about him, something about how you say his name. You know who he is, what he is. It's kind of creepy."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Not to mention the fact that he's put you through hell. And still, you really love him."

"He hasn't put me through hell."

Sheik laughed.

"You can just admit it, you know," he said. "Link puts _everyone_ through hell."

"It's a beautiful hell," she murmured. But by the time she did, Sheik was already asleep.

As she lay there, Zelda mulled over his words. How could he claim to know that she knew Link? That she could even remotely know who he was? It didn't matter in the end whether she loved him, anyway. After everything that had happened, after what she knew was to come, she had come to a conclusion she should have come to after that night with Link.

He didn't love her back. He _couldn't_ love her back. It was written in the stars that way.

_Maybe my ancestors did fall in love with the hero,_ she thought, _only to meet the same exact fate._

Suddenly, watching the sun beginning to rise through the tent's opening, a wise certainty ran through her body. She jerked up again with a gasp as the Triforce on her hand began to glow and Sheik, with a surprised whimper, tumbled off the bed.

"What is it this time...?" he grumbled.

She stared at her hand wordlessly, watched as the lower left triangle glowed, and then the lower right triangle.

"He's coming," she said.

"Huh?"

"Link is alive and he's coming home."

"You okay there, babe?"

"Send someone to find him. Send anyone. He's somewhere in Hyrule Field. We have to bring him back."

Sheik jumped up and stretched his back.

"You're _serious_?"

"Of course I am," she replied calmly.

It was that certainty, that wisdom that she had seen in her grandmother's eyes, in her mother's eyes, that pressed her forward. Adrenaline pumped through her, but released itself in the form of rationale, calmness, and serenity. As her words began to sink into his mind, Sheik took on that determined expression of his, cracked his neck, and lifted his chin.

"Where is he?"

"I don't know. But he's out there."

Sheik rolled up his sleeves, leaned forward, and lightly kissed her forehead.

"I'm going to find him."

"Take a horse. And be careful."

"I make you no promises."

With that undeniable grace, Sheik flittered out of the room, leaving Zelda to ponder what exactly she was going to do when Link arrived.

* * *

One day later, Sheik arrived back at camp, Link slumped in his arms. They received the greeting of heroes, and the entire camp was in an uproar. Sheik dismounted, nearly collapsed in exhaustion, and Malon and Ilia ran forward to carry Link to the infirmary. Zelda pushed through the excited crowd of Loyalists to where Sheik was kneeling and helped him to his feet.

"You did well," she said.

He smiled and nodded his head absentmindedly. They stumbled forward through the crowd, and Shad jumped forward to help Zelda support him. The entire atmosphere of the camp suddenly changed, became a whirl of relief and happiness and a renewed sense of purpose. Under Ilia's orders, nobody was to visit Link while he recovered (with the exception of Sheik and Zelda), but nobody needed to visit him to know that he was going to be all right. The threat of chaos that had been looming over the camp dissipated with the understanding that the Loyalist leader was back and everything was going to go back to normal soon enough.

Of course, Zelda knew better. She knew that nothing was going to go back to normal. But she was all right with that. She was ready to take on whatever was to come. And so she sat in the infirmary while Sheik and Link slept in their beds, watched them shift and dream, and began preparing herself for war while trying to overcome the overwhelming relief that Link was safe. That he had survived. That she had a little bit longer to silently love him.

_Silently, _she continued to remind herself. _Silently._

* * *

**What is this 'realism' of which you keep speaking? Idk what that even means kbi see you next chapter. **


	47. A Hero's Partners

Chapter Forty-Six: A Hero's Partners

"I have a request, Master."

"Hmph. What makes you think I'm not just going to kill you?"

"Nothing. Make no mistakes. I'm ready to die. But I have one more request before I do."

"You are incredibly lucky that I haven't taken your life with my own hands already."

"Just hear me out."

"I'm not sure you deserve it, my desert flower."

"Please. You can do whatever you want with me afterward. I won't fight you."

"The smartest decision you've made in months."

There was a tension unlike anything she had ever experienced penetrating deep into her bones, manifesting itself in the smoothness of her voice and the elegance of her pose. She knelt, her hand on arm across her leg, her head bowed, and her hair falling so long it grazed the carpet beneath her. She didn't look up at him, wouldn't give herself the opportunity to change her mind when confronted by the frightening fire that constantly lit his eyes. Her decision had been made, and it was a decision through which she needed to follow. The entire purpose of her life, the reason she had been tortured for years and the reason she was still fighting for her life, rested on this decision. She was so confident, so reliant, that she simply assumed that he would allow her one last mission.

"Very well. I'll hear what you have to say."

"Let me kill Princess Zelda."

"A bold request."

"What purpose does she serve at this point?"

"If she dies now, she'll become a martyr."

"Master," Damita said through clenched teeth, "she needs to die at one time or another. If the roots of the Royal Family are not destroyed, how can we hope to plant new life?"

"Do not patronize me."

"If she's going to die, why not sooner rather than later?"

"My plans are just being set into motion."

"Please. Let me kill her. That's all I want."

He stepped out from his world of shadows, and she could feel the entire world tremble when his feet touched the ground. But she wouldn't move. She wouldn't say anything else. She simply knelt, awaiting his decision, struggling with the notion that the man towering above her had once been kind and loving enough to win Nabooru's heart. She couldn't see the expression on his face, but she imagined it like a monster's. Smiling a cruel, demonic smile, but with the charm that was necessary to crush the world in the palm of his hand.

"Very well. The Loyalists are at a disadvantage anyway with a wounded leader," he said. "We shall begin our attack."

"Thank you, Master."

"Rest assured your punishment will come."

"Yes."

"We begin our advance on Castle Town in three days. If we simply destroy everything in our path, the Loyalists will surely appear. We are ready. Then you will have your chance to kill the princess."

"Yes."

"One chance. One chance only."

"One chance is all I need."

"Good. Go rally the troops."

* * *

When Link finally opened his eyes, when he was finally able to make sense of his situation in its entirety, all he could feel was sorrow. Grief. He felt as if he were in a horrible state of mourning, a state in which nothing mattered and happiness was nothing but an illusion. It had been there, right in his fingers, and then it had slipped out. Just as it had before. Just as it always had. Just as it had when he found himself parentless. Just as it had when Rusl, the man who raised him, had died. Just as it had when Damita had left him. Just as it had that night in the tent with Zelda.

He had been foolish to think that happiness was within his grasp.

_Just foolish._

"Hey, bud. You feeling okay?"

Link turned his head and saw Sheik sitting at his bedside, that soft smile on his face. But there were bags under his eyes and his skin was pale and he was tapping his fingers on his knee nervously. Link simply stared up at him, blinking slowly and utterly unable to smile back.

"No."

"That's all right. Ilia's taking good care of you. You'll get better."

"No I won't."

Sheik closed his eyes and stared upward, at a deity that at that point Link was thoroughly convinced didn't exist. Sheik's fingers began tapping more quickly, more nervously, and then he started clenching and unclenching his fists, as if he were in some kind of horrible pain.

"Yes you will. You'll be fine."

"Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?"

The expression on Sheik's face contorted into a combination of anger, sadness, and longing. He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Link turned his head away because he couldn't bear to look at the face of someone he loved for more than a few moments.

"Sheik."

"What is it, bud?"

"You're going to leave."

"What?"

"You're going to leave me soon. You might as well do it now."

"Link, what are you talking about?"

"They all leave. Everybody. Every single person I love leaves me. You'll leave, too."

He heard a dry chuckle and turned back. Sheik was shaking his head and looking at him with tears in his eyes, sad tears. Link wondered how lonely he looked, laying in bed like that as if he were simply a talking corpse.

"I'm not going to leave you," Sheik said. He reached out and grabbed Link's hand. At first, he cringed back, unwilling to succumb to the type of love that he knew was going to be mercilessly ripped away from him. "I'm never going to leave you. You're like my brother. We're partners until the end."

Link let Sheik hold his hand, but didn't respond. He didn't want to try to convince him that he was right—he didn't need to go through the pain of repeating, over and over again, that Sheik was eventually going to leave. If not leave, then be taken from him. There was no point. Link knew it was true. He didn't need to convince any one else. They were all going to leave, anyway. The numbness inside of him was overwhelming. Then, like a hurricane in his head, he heard footsteps approaching. But he knew who it was. He could tell by the way the footsteps sounded. Another hand fell upon his and Sheik's, squeezed. But he felt nothing.

"We're all partners," she said. "Until the end. We're not going to leave you."

Link couldn't look up at Princess Zelda because he was scared of what would happen if he did. The world would fall apart all over again. When he closed his eyes, when he heard the sound of her voice, he remembered that night—the night he released himself, the night he felt relieved of the pain of missing Damita for the first time in three years, if only for a few moments.

But he was done trying to relieve that pain. That pain, of wanting Damita in his arms so badly it made his heart tighten, was the only thing he knew was constant. It would never change. And change was such a frightening thing. So he grasped onto that pain, sunk his teeth into it, and held on so tightly that it was the only thing in his hands. Just that everlasting pain of missing her. He couldn't stop thinking about the way she looked when she walked away from him, took away his hope as soon as she had given it.

_She's so cruel,_ he thought. _I should hate her._

Zelda spoke again.

"We promise you. We're not going to leave you. We'll be right here by your side."

He lacked the will to respond. So he just lay there, forcing himself to relive the past just to feel the pain—because it was the only thing he could feel—as Sheik and Zelda grasped his hand and told him, promised him, that they loved him.

* * *

After Link had fallen asleep again, Sheik and Zelda walked outside of the tent to stroll along the river and clear their heads. Zelda hugged herself and stared at the ground, watching one foot step in front of the other as a way to keep her mind coherent. Sheik bounced along beside her, swinging his arms and twirling his braid and pointing his toes.

"He's very sad," she said. "Very sad and very lonely."

"I haven't seen him like this since that day, three years ago."

"Sheik, can you tell me what happened three years ago?"

He sighed, did a cartwheel, and ran his hands along his face. She felt tense just watching him, restless and stressed like that.

"The Rebels invaded camp," he said. "We're not entirely sure why. But they did. And Damita was kidnapped."

"She never came back, did she?"

"Nope. Next thing we know, she's their best assassin, feared throughout the kingdom as the silver-haired murderer with the two swords."

She tried to imagine Link's grief, Link's hopelessness, at losing someone he loved in such a cruel, ruthless way.

"So she's a traitor."

Sheik turned his face to the sky and closed his eyes, as if it gave him pain to respond.

"Yeah. I think that's what killed Link more than anything. She became one of them, you know?"

"Yes."

"The same thing happened back then. He built this wall, convinced himself that nobody loved him and that the world was a horrible and dark place. Like now."

"What was she like?" Zelda asked. She hadn't planned on asking that question, but it had slipped from her lips, as if it had been waiting there, desperate for an answer.

"Damita?" Sheik paused, and then, he smiled. "Damita was beautiful. Fierce. Passionate about everything, and also a bit of a show-off. Kind of like me."

"Right, of course," she smirked.

"She was friends with everyone, but she never trained and was always off doing her own thing. Of course, that didn't matter much. I've yet to meet someone who fights like her. She used to have this habit of waking up early, before the sun even rises, and going out to train by herself. Link started doing it, too."

"Were you two friends?"

At this, Sheik laughed, and she saw the fond memories flashing in his smile.

"Yeah. We _hated_ each other at first. I mean, like, a passionate desire to see the other fail miserably. But then we decided that we were both too awesome to not like each other. We were close, especially after she and Link...you know. She was something else."

Zelda was silent. Some part of her regretted asking the question and inviting the pangs of jealousy, but another part was grateful. The pieces of the puzzle were starting to fit together. Everything, from the moment she had first seen Damita in her bedroom at Hyrule Castle, to the moment of Link's return, was making more and more sense.

"She could make anybody laugh. Not to mention she could make anybody swoon."

"She sounds wonderful."

"I miss her," he smiled again. Zelda hadn't been expecting him to say that. "It's still hard on me sometimes. But nothing compared to Link. He's never been the same since. Always on edge, having a hard time opening up."

"I've noticed."

"Although, I've never seen him look at someone the way he looks at you."

Her heart stopped.

"Not even Damita. There's something in his eyes when he looks at you, something that I've never seen before."

Her back straightened, she dropped her arms, and her steps became more careful. She couldn't bring herself to look over at him and simply stared ahead as she walked, kicking the pebbles and maintaining a steady rhythm of breathing.

"He looks at you like..."

His voice trailed off, but Zelda didn't want to hear the rest of the sentence. She didn't care to hear anything about the way Link looked at her. But after a few moments, Sheik opened his mouth again and put his arm around her shoulders.

"He looks at you like you're going to save him."

* * *

Link stumbled out of bed the next morning and found himself the only one awake. The sun still hadn't risen. Sheik was curled up on another bed, and Zelda was nowhere to be seen. He saw his sword glittering near the entrance of the tent, and he grabbed it as he walked out, his body still aching. Everything was perfectly silent as he walked, as briskly and deliberately as possible, to that one spot he knew he could be alone. Truly alone. He let the tip of his sword drag in the mud, and it left a trail behind him. He walked past the river, past that strange house, walked throughout the camp while his bones trembled, until he finally reached the training grounds.

Someone was already there.

Princess Zelda sat in the center of the circular area, her legs crossed and her eyes closed. Her blond hair blew in unkempt tangles around her face, and beneath the early morning sky, she was drifting in a cloak of shadows. As soon as his eyes fell upon her, he stopped, instinctively tightening his grip on his sword. He tried to look away, to keep from seeing her face at all costs, but he couldn't. She was holding something against her chest—a blanket of some kind.

After a few moments of deafening silence, she opened her eyes and smiled.

"I knew you would be here."

He clenched his jaw to try and give himself a headache—anything to distract himself from this. Just when he wanted to be completely and utterly alone, here she was, sitting there and paralyzing him from head to toe. She stood up and began walking toward him, and the calm expression on her face never changed. Not for a single moment. Suddenly she was standing right in front of him, sending tingles along his skin, making him sweat and feel unbearably thirsty.

"I wanted to give you this."

She reached her arms out, and he finally ripped his gaze from her face to look at the strange bundle. It wasn't a blanket. It was the tunic he had seen her with before; the tunic that once belonged to the Hero. His sword slipped from his grasp.

"Why?" he murmured. "Why are you giving this to me?"

She reached down, grabbed his wrist, and lifted it, palm-up. He clenched his teeth harder.

"Because it belongs to you," she whispered.

Zelda placed the tunic into his arms. Still, her smile had not faded. The light in her eyes had not dimmed. She stood as a stoic, serene princess. Link thought that he might just collapse if he continued to watch her like that, if not from the magnitude of the realization that had just run into him. The tunic felt heavy, it felt ancient, it felt as if it belonged, while he held it.

"I stand by what I said yesterday."

She lifted her hands and placed them on his cheeks—but he only felt her touch for a few moments before wincing and turning away. It was the kind of horrible, burning touch that he couldn't bear. It gave him a feeling other than the pain that he had come to crave. But Zelda continued to smile and lowered her hands.

"I am your partner until the end."

And then Princess Zelda walked past him, leaving him to ponder the hero's tunic that had just altered the course of his life in one fleeting moment.


	48. When You Love This Purely

**I am becoming so desperate to finish this. **

**Bear with me, lovely people, when I throw out strange chapters like this. **

* * *

Chapter Forty-Seven: When You Love This Purely

Zelda slept in the abandoned house that night. The atmosphere of the infirmary had become a bit sickening to her, and so she had moved her things there with the strange desire to be surrounded by pieces of the past. She sat on the old, dusty bed on the highest ledge with her book open, reading and pausing to stare at the pictures of the hero. His face, young and fresh and happy, made her smile. She had read through the story of the Hero of Time over and over and still, each time, her eyes drank in the words more vigorously, more passionately. She enjoyed looking at the portraits in the back almost as much—the Hero of Twilight, Princess Zelda, the Twilight Princess. More than anything, she wished she could have witnessed their courage, their sacrifice, everything that they did.

But she had come to terms with the fact that she had her own courage, that she was making her own sacrifices. Perhaps in the future, her descendant would look at a book like this, and wonder what it would have been like to be her.

Zelda looked out of the window into the darkness. And then, as her eyes followed the flowing of the river, she saw a figure curled up on its bank. His pose was so sad, as if he were trying to block everything out in the shape of his body. Then, while she continued to watch him, he managed to stand up and lift his tunic over his head, tossing it carelessly at his feet. The red scars along his body glistened in the moonlight as he jumped, in almost complete silence, into the river.

_I hope the water feels cleansing,_ she thought with a sigh, _O Great Hero._

* * *

"It's late. And you shouldn't even be up. You need to rest."

"I couldn't sleep."

Link looked up at Sheik, standing with his arms crossed on the riverbank, from within the river. He liked the feeling of water along every inch of his skin, smooth and cold enough to remind him that in some ways, he was still alive. Before Sheik could open his mouth again, Link submerged his head, letting silence and darkness and the infinity of the water surround him. He felt as if under the water, he could imagine anything he wanted to. He felt her arms around him, her lips smiling against his, drowning there with him.

"Link, come on," Sheik said as soon as Link lifted his head. "You can talk to me."

Link smoothed back his wet hair and decided that he didn't have the energy to respond.

"I'm your best friend. You can tell me."

His voice became softer as he knelt down, his red eyes wide and shimmering. Link had no choice but to look into them and watch as Sheik raised his eyebrows.

"I just don't want to fight it anymore," Link said. "I don't want to stop missing her."

"But it's killing you. It's destroying you from the inside out."

"I don't care."

"Link!"

Suddenly, Sheik was screaming, and it made Link wince. He floated back, away from the bank, away from anything that might force him to face reality. He wasn't ready for that. He wasn't ready to return to his senses, to realize that what was past was past. For him, past was present. And present was nothing.

"You can't keep doing this!" Sheik shouted. "You're not just hurting yourself, you know. You're hurting _me._ You're hurting _Zelda._"

"Sheik, stop."

"No, _you_ stop, you selfish bastard. I understand that you're hurt. I understand that you're in pain. But you're not the only one. And we're trying to help you."

Link felt his heart break a little bit more.

"I know...I know."

Sheik began shaking his head and then buried his face in his hands, his entire body trembling in anger and frustration. Link recalled him like that three years ago, when he had first tried pushing him away. When he had descended into his world of darkness and shut out everything and anything that could bring him back up to the surface.

"I'm sorry, Sheik. I just don't know what to do."

He floated onto his back so that he could stare at the stars instead of Sheik's agonized face. The breeze gave him chills and made him shiver, but he floated as still as he possibly could. He thought that maybe if he floated there long enough, he could just freeze, never have to move or speak or fight or love again.

"That's why we're here, Link. To help you figure it out," Sheik said. "It's okay to not know what to do. It's just not okay to shut everyone out."

Link was grateful for the fact that his face was wet, because it disguised the tears that squeezed out from his eyes. He knew somewhere within him, somewhere within his shell, that Sheik was right. He couldn't do this alone, not again—it would kill him. But it was so difficult for him to admit it, to say, "Help me." He couldn't bring himself to do it because he was afraid that if he asked for the help, if he relied on that help, it would be taken away and he would be left even more alone than before. It had happened too many times.

"I really don't know what to do."

"I know what you have to do."

"I know what you're going to say, and—"

"Let her go."

"I can't."

"Yes you can."

"She's everywhere, Sheik. I can feel her in the air. I can't breathe."

"Then let her go."

"But I've been holding on for so long. What would I hold onto if I let her go?"

Link dove back beneath the water to feel the rush of breathlessness. When he came back up, his lungs burning and his body screaming, Sheik was leaning forward with a smile on his face and his hand outstretched.

"You hold onto the future," he said. "You hold onto hope."

As Link grabbed his best friend's hand and let him pull him from the water, the tears stopped flowing, and he breathed a little bit more easily.

* * *

Damita had always hated how cold the desert was at night, but on that particular evening, it was refreshing. She sat on the sand at the entrance of her tent, pulling at her hair and trying to erase images, scenarios, questions, from her toxic mind. The desire to kill Princess Zelda was growing stronger with each moment, and it was so intense that she felt it pulsing in her blood. She had never wanted anybody dead with so much ardor. She had never wanted to put her assassination skills to the test so badly.

But worse than all of that—worse than what had happened to Link, worse than the immense loss she felt, worse than the mere idea that he loved someone else, was the way he had held her. There on the shores of Lake Hylia, Damita had been transported to the past, to a time when Link's arms had held her each time she cried, each time she laughed, each time she so much as whispered his name. What she felt through the warmth of his body, through the tight way he held her body against his, was a feeling she had almost forgotten after three years of being without it. It was the feeling of truly loving someone, and of someone truly loving her back. Loving her so much he cried against her skin and begged her not to go and squeezed to make sure that she didn't. That was the worst thing of all. Feeling how much he loved her and then walking away anyway.

She knew that Nabooru wasn't asleep there on the bed. Damita could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken apologies and the unspoken lectures. The terribly silent separation. She wanted to say something to her mentor, her best friend, but she didn't really know what to say. So she just sat in silence and waited, though she wasn't sure exactly for what she was waiting.

_Two days,_ she thought, _two days and I can kill her. I can spill her blood. _

"Damita?"

Nabooru's voice was smooth and low and calm, but it still made Damita cringe. She hugged herself and stared out at nothing.

"We're going to war soon."

"I know. I'm the one who asked for it."

"Do you even understand what that means?"

"It means I can kill Princess Zelda."

"It also means that Ganondorf can kill Link."

Damita knew that. But each time the thought had crossed her mind, she had pushed it aside and hidden it away so that she couldn't—wouldn't—think about it no matter what.

_One step at a time, one step at a time. _

"I think you should know, Damita, that he doesn't love her."

She squeezed her eyes more tightly as Nabooru's voice flowed through the darkness, through the cold of the air. There was a high-pitched ringing in her ears that wouldn't go away and it was giving her a headache. But it just wouldn't stop.

"I don't know," she replied. "I don't know."

"You'll see just how much he loves you when we meet him on the battlefield," Nabooru whispered grimly.

Damita pulled on her hair more and watched silver strands fall onto the sand.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Yes you do."

"Maybe."

"He'll kill you," she finally said. The dagger plunged deeper into Damita's mind. "He loves you, and he'll kill you if that's what it takes to save you."

"No he won't. He'll keep his promise, he'll protect me—"

"Killing you _is_ protecting you."

She heard Nabooru begin to cry.

"You're destroying yourself."

Damita stared at the palms of her hands, smeared with blood.

"No I'm not," she murmured. "There's nothing left to destroy."

The memories began running through her head again, and as they did, she remembered what it was truly like to love him—to give up her principles, go against her rationale, and just love so purely it was painful...

* * *

...The sun still hadn't risen, but her heart was pumping. She swung the swords, again and again and again, until the dummy was in pieces at her feet. Anger and frustration, raw frustration, bubbled up inside of her and gathered in her fingers, which tightened around the sword hilts. She didn't want to see the sun, she didn't want to feel the warmth, she just wanted to swing her swords like that in the darkness and in the cold. But of course, being alone was never an option. Not with him constantly there, somehow knowing everything that was going on.

"How did I know you would be here?"

"Leave me alone, Link."

"Damita, can't we just talk?"

She heard his footsteps coming closer, and began running her swords together before turning to face him with a scowl.

"About what?"

"Look, I already apologized."

"You still can't take back what you said. Your apology doesn't make a difference."

"Why are you always so goddamn stubborn?"

She could see the remains of sleep in his eyes as he stood before her, throwing his arms in the air as he shouted. With narrowed eyes, she watched, determined to maintain her stance against him.

"At least I don't treat the people I love like dirt," she hissed.

Link stopped breathing and just stared at her, as if she had slapped him across the face and smiled while she did it. She began twisting her swords, maintaining eye contact, challenging him to say something back.

"What else do you want from me? I'm giving you all I have," he murmured.

"Well maybe that's just not enough. Ever thought of that?"

"Trying to deal with you is pointless," he laughed dryly. "Nothing satisfies you."

The anger, the frustration, was bubbling more vigorously than before inside of her. She felt the heat in her stomach, in her arms, in the heavy pounding of her heart. But before she could say anything, he spoke again, in a much softer tone.

"If it's not enough, fine. Forget it. Forget everything. I'll leave you alone."

"Good."

He stared at her for a few more moments, his blue eyes searing through her skin, before sighing and turning around. It was only then, when she saw his back facing her, that her heart began to scream. Of course she had been wrong. Of course it wasn't his fault. Of course she accepted his apology.

_When will I learn that I can't just let him walk away? _she asked herself.

"Wait, Link," she called when he was halfway across the field. He stopped. "Come here."

Slowly, he walked back to face her, lips pursed and eyebrows raised.

"What is it?"

She wasn't exactly sure what to say, how to explain to him that she actually did forgive him for what he'd said, so she decided to not say anything. Instead, she dropped her swords and grabbed his collar with both hands and kissed him, hard enough so that he knew that she forgave him for anything and everything. As soon as she pulled away, he threw his head back and laughed.

"Ha! I knew the puppy dog eyes would work," he teased.

"How in Nayru's name did I manage to fall in love with you?"

He shrugged and put his hands at her neck.

"I have no idea. And I don't really care."

As he kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, her closed eyes, she grasped his wrists and took as deep a breath as she could.

"Loving you is so painful," she murmured, "but I can't stop."

"I don't know what I'd do if you ever did."

Finally his lips were hovering above hers, making her knees tremble and her breathing quicken. Her grip on his wrists tightened.

"How come it hurts to love you this much, Link? Even when you love me back?"

He kissed her, gently, brought his chest against hers.

"It hurts because it's so pure," he said. "It hurts when you love this purely."


	49. The Hero and The Princess

Chapter Forty-Eight: The Hero and The Princess

As the sun began to rise and another minute of sleeplessness passed, Link felt the strange desire to see that house again. The one with the strange pictures, where he and Damita had made love for the first time. It wasn't because he wanted to put himself through the pain of stepping once more deeply into those memories or because he wanted to be confused about the photographs again, to question why the boy looked so much like him. There was another reason, a feeling he couldn't define. It drew him, like a beautiful hand beckoning, toward it, as if there were a beautiful treasure, a beautiful secret hidden inside waiting for him to come claim it. So for the second morning in a row, the ache in his body a little bit less crippling, he got out of bed before any one else in camp and walked along the path toward the house. Climbing the ladder was painful and he could feel the thorns of plants that had spent years wrapping around the rungs digging into his palm. But finally he was up there, in a place where it felt natural for him to be.

Before walking inside, he took a moment to look out over camp from the ledge. It was his camp. His purpose, his life, his love, his family, his friends. And yet he hadn't been able to feel the passion for it in so long. But standing there with the fresh morning air surrounding him, he felt the passion beginning to spring to life once more. The passion to fight for something. Finally, with hints of his former self surfacing, Link walked into the house.

There was a beautiful kind of darkness inside. Each step he took felt like rebirth. Although there was the lingering memory in his mind of her standing at the window, like divinity in human form, reaching out to him with fingertips brimming with love. He didn't push away the image. But he didn't embrace it either. He let it linger in the air, let her voice float in and out of his mind, let her presence cling to him. As it always did and as it always would.

The floorboards were creaky, but the chills he used to get didn't come. Instead, it was as if music was seeping into the air, filling him with a sense of familiarity and comfort. He stood in the center of the room, next to the cobwebbed, open treasure chest, and closed his eyes. Then he breathed it all in through his nostrils, exhaled it all out through his mouth, and repeated. And then came a voice, like the conductor of the symphony, floating through the surreal calmness of it all.

"Is someone there?"

He shrunk back inside himself a little bit more. But when he opened his eyes and glanced up, and when he saw Princess Zelda gazing down at him from above, he didn't feel the caution that he was expecting. He didn't feel the pain, the agony, the confusion that he was expecting. He simply felt as if she were meant to be there, as if he were meant to see her, to hear her voice.

"Link," she said. Her eyebrows her raised and her eyes were drooping but she was awake and Link still found it difficult to look straight at her. Her presence was so strong, but Damita's was stronger. It was suddenly like a war inside him. "What are you doing here?"

"I don't know."

"You should really rest."

Link didn't respond. He turned away and closed his eyes again because the light that shined down on him from her eyes was too bright. But then he got that feeling again—the one that had first brought him to the house. The feeling that he needed to be up there with her, a strange voice calling him desperately. So without a word, Damita's presence still clinging to him in that gentle way, he climbed up to the very top where Zelda was, feeling her silent eyes on him the entire time. And then he was there, standing beside her as she sat on the bed with her tired face and open book. Softly, she smiled a knowing smile, and he sat across from her. Not looking into her eyes, but looking at the pages of the book.

"Are you all right?" she murmured.

He wasn't entirely certain how to answer.

"I don't feel all right," he replied, "but I don't feel all wrong, either."

Link could almost hear her smile. It was kind and loving and motherly, as if she had been expecting that answer. As his gaze stood firmly on the open book, he watched her fingers began to run over the pages, hovering over the words.

"Do you want to tell me how much you miss her?"

Link held his breath and Damita's presence grew stronger. She might as well have been sitting beside him, grabbing his arm and whispering against his neck.

_Tell her,_ she was saying. _It's okay. Tell her. I'm right here. _

And then he opened his mouth.

"I wanted to kill when she was taken away from me," he said. "But I wanted to be killed when she walked away from me."

_Go on. It's okay._

"It's like waking up every day under water. I can't breathe. I just sit, waiting for something to remind me that I'm alive, imagining what she looks like at that moment. She was always the most beautiful right when she woke up." He laughed quietly. "I would never dare tell her that, though. Even after six years, I can't really predict her temper."

Zelda was still smiling, her fingers still brushing the pages of the book, and the light in her eyes was still warm and comforting and urging him to continue. He knew that she was listening. If he were to sit for the next year, telling her everything and anything, she would never stop listening and she would never stop smiling.

"Sometimes I feel like if I just walk out into the forest I'll find her again. She'll be waiting for me there, and she'll be reaching out for me. And then I'll grab her hands and feel how warm they are. They were always so warm. And then I'll hold her tightly like I always used to and smell her hair. It smelled like flowers. I don't know what kind of flowers, but they smelled like flowers. And then she'll whisper that she loves me. That's how she did it the first time. She just whispered it in my ear, as if she was scared that somebody would hear. But everybody knew already, so I thought it was funny."

"How often do you think about her?"

He stared up at the ceiling and remembered the last time he had been on that bed, when he had promised her that he would love her forever.

"Every second of every day."

"Does it hurt?"

"It always hurt," he shrugged. "Even when she was with me. It hurt. She even said it to me once. She asked me why it hurt so much to love me. But at the time, it just seemed natural that we hurt. If we didn't hurt, then we would feel nothing but happiness together. So it makes sense that we were in pain, for balance."

"How do you feel now?"

"This pain is different. When she was with me, it was like a soreness in my heart. You know, to make up for how great it felt. Now it's like I have no heart to hurt."

"But I can hear it."

He finally looked up at her. There were tears of compassion in her eyes. Pure, selfless compassion.

"What?" he breathed.

"I can hear your heart beating. So it's there."

Before he could say anything to stop her, before he could even feel the need to stop her, she brought her hand up and pressed it against his chest. She continued to stare into his eyes for what seemed like an eternity, her breathing perfectly aligned with the his heartbeat. Her palm was warm and heavy against him.

"See?" she whispered. "I can feel it, too. Now I know it's there."

He could see his bewildered expression reflected in her eyes. Slowly, she lifted her hand from his chest and grabbed his wrist. Then she put his hand where hers had been, held it there. He felt the soft _thud_, _thud_, _thud_, from beneath his skin.

"Don't you feel it?"

"I feel it."

"That's your heart. It's beating. It's beautiful and it's strong."

She smiled that wise smile again, as if she had been living for centuries and had perfected the art of making someone feel calm with simply that smile. She lifted her hand from his wrist and as soon as she did, Link felt something strange. It wasn't unfamiliar—he was certain that he had felt it before. But it was strange nonetheless.

"Princess?" he said.

"Yes?"

"Will you hold my hand for a little bit longer, please?"

As two beautiful, silver tears fled down her cheeks, she grabbed his hand with both of hers. She stroked his fingers, his palm, and then turned it over and stroked the back. Her warmth flowed like a wave through her fingertips into him, made his lips tremble. The silhouette of a triangle appeared beneath her fingers, shining up from his skin and soothing his entire body. He could feel his own hand trembling, but hers were perfectly still, secure and protective. So he forced his muscles to relax, felt her squeeze his hand, basked in the warmth of the Triforce while raindrops began pattering on the window. And the entire time, Damita was right there next to him, holding his other hand and whispering—like she always used to—that she loved him.

"Princess?"

"Yes, Link?"

"Will you read to me from that book?"

The princess blinked so slowly, so divinely. And then she shook her head.

"No. I want you to read to me," she said. "Please." Her grip on his hand felt tighter.

"But I don't want you to let go of my hand."

"Come sit next to me, darling. Come here."

He was frightened that if she let go, he would feel cold and heartless and numb again. So without letting his hand slip, he moved and sat beside her, their legs and shoulders brushing. She cradled his hand in her lap and nodded toward the book.

"You can do it. Read to me."

_Go on, Link. I want to hear you read, too. _

"What chapter were we on?"

"Chapter three."

He licked his lips and narrowed his eyes, pushed forward by the voice in his head and the grip on his hand. The letters weren't so frightening anymore.

"Chapter Three: Journey...to Castle...Town."

"Beautiful. Keep going."

_Keep going._

"The Deku Tree was...dead. But that...didn't stop...the young...hero. He knew what...he had to do. He finally had...with him a fairy. Together, they left...the forest and set off for the...the..."

"Famous."

"They set off for the famous Castle Town. He was...ready to...begin his task of...saving Hyrule. Because that...was his des..."

"Destiny."

"Because that was his destiny."

Zelda sighed in the proud way that a mother might sigh for her son and brought his hand to her lips. Then, breathing against his glowing skin, she whispered, "You're doing so beautifully."

He could feel her tears flow onto his hand.

_It's okay. Tell her to stop crying. I'm right here._

"Princess."

Zelda lifted her head to face him. Her skin was flushed and alive, her lips rosy and open, her fingers still and like porcelain. The tears looked as if someone had painted them onto her cheeks.

"Please don't cry."

He hadn't realized that his own voice was at a whisper.

"I'm sorry," she smiled. "I'm a horrible example, aren't I?"

_I'm going to let go of your hand now, Link. Don't worry, I'm still right here._

As Damita released her grip on his right hand, he lifted it to Zelda's cheek. The instant his palm grazed her skin, she closed her eyes and let out a deep breath and leaned her head against it. As if she had been standing in the desert and had finally found water.

"You're so much stronger than I am," he said. And he felt it. The truth of the words resonated inside of him loudly. "You don't have to cry."

He let his thumb move slowly, from her lower eyelashes to the corner of her eye, where the tears stood and shimmered. The rain was loud now. And then, after long moments of silence, she spoke again, in a trance-like state with her eyes still closed.

"Link. Chosen hero of the gods, master of courage. Say my name."

"Princess—"

"No," she interrupted. "My name."

_Go ahead. Say it. I want to hear it, too. _

"Zelda," he murmured. "Zelda."

She opened her eyes.

"Thank you."

On her knees, holding his hand as if for dear life, Zelda leaned forward and placed her lips delicately on his forehead.

It felt like home.

_I'm glad it feels like home, _Damita said. _I'm so glad._

* * *

"Sheik! Get up, ya lazy bum!"

"Goddammit, can't a guy get five minutes of sleep? I deserve at least that much."

"Trust me, we're not going to be sleeping for a while."

He sat up in bed, just vaguely aware of Ashei's figure in the entrance of the tent. But he was definitely certain that it was her voice that had put a screeching halt to his peaceful dreams. She was soaked from head to toe from the rain, which had begun pouring.

"And why is that, mountain girl?"

As he did every morning, practically out of habit, he began braiding his hair.

"Because, hair boy," she replied bitterly. It was only then that he realized she was pale, out of breath, and looked as if she had just seen a ghost. "War's coming a lot sooner than we thought."

"What do you mean?"

"The Rebel troops have mobilized," she continued. Sheik felt his heart slowly stop. "They're headed for Castle Town. We have maybe a day and a half before they take over the whole city."

"What about the Royal Guard? Aren't those useless pieces of metal doing anything?"

"I think you just answered that question yourself, hun."

"Fine, fine."

His breathing was suddenly just as heavy as hers. He leaped out of bed, adrenaline pulsing through him like the blood in his veins, and he could practically see his entire world crashing down around him.

"Round everyone up. And for the love of Farore _somebody_ find Link. We need to move as soon as possible—"

"I'm already on it," Ashei swallowed. "Everyone in camp is preparing."

"And now we have to find Link."

"And the princess."

"And the princess, good. Good."

Swearing under his breath and cracking his knuckles, Sheik stormed out of the tent with Ashei at his side, wondering how the hell he was going to survive the next couple of days.


	50. Awakening

**This is a short one, but I'd like to think that it's pretty dramatic. **

**Love forever and always, enjoy :) **

* * *

Chapter Forty-Nine: Awakening

"All right, hot shot, how are we doing this?"

"Head on. With archers on the hill."

"Ahem. Head on?"

"Yes. It's the only way."

"Why?"

"Because they know we're coming. No. They _want_ us to come. So they'll be ready."

"Are you sure about this, boss?"

"Sheik."

Link stared up at him with fire in his eyes. Sheik sighed and pulled lightly on his hair.

"Fine, fine, fine. You are the boss, after all."

"If our sources are correct, and if we move out within the next few hours, we should run into them in front of the gates to Castle Town."

"And they will have destroyed half of Hyrule by then."

"Wrong," Link shook his head. "Civilians are fighting back—hard. Then, of course, there are the ones who have joined the Rebel cause. At this point, it's pure civil war. But they won't destroy Hyrule."

"Please enlighten me as to why."

"What is Ganondorf's goal, Sheik?"

He shrugged and stood up, suddenly restless and jumpy.

"Destroy the world as we know it?"

"No."

"Make your life miserable?"

"Yes, but that's not the answer I was looking for."

"Make Zelda's life miserable?"

"Take over Hyrule, Sheik. Not destroy it. Take it over. He wouldn't completely destroy something that he wants."

"Can't he just rebuild it?"

"Not without the support he needs. Are you following?"

"Do I ever?"

"Link, Sheik."

Princess Zelda walked over to where they were sitting, discussing battle strategies and preparing to head out. When Link looked up at her, she saw something fierce, almost dangerous in his eyes. As soon as he had heard the word 'war,' she had watched the gears begin turning in his head. His demeanor had completely changed from one of uncertainty and sorrow, to one of raw determination.

"I just sent messages to the Gorons and the Zoras," she said. "Whether or not they'll meet us in time is in the goddesses' hands."

"Everything is ready then. We should head out within the hour," Link nodded. "Get ready. Everything is on the line here."

"The goddesses will protect us."

Zelda turned her eyes to the sky and smiled.

"They won't forsake us."

Sheik sighed and followed her gaze.

"I hope this isn't the one time you're wrong, babe. I really, really hope not."

* * *

Thalassa rushed into the throne room, waving a small envelope in her webbed fingers and trying to catch her breath. Laruto sat up with an excited smile and cracked her knuckles.

"Don't even bother saying anything," she chuckled. "Just go prepare our troops."

* * *

Darunia rubbed his temples and stared at the piece of paper before him. The words of Sister Damita flitted around in his head, battling with the words of Princess Zelda.

_Who do we fight for?_

What _do we fight for?_

"Tell my soldiers to prepare themselves," Darunia ordered one of his guards. "We leave at sundown."

* * *

Link stood in the center of his makeshift tent, basking in the cool night air of Hyrule Field. In a couple of hours, the Loyalists were going to find themselves before the Rebels, in a battle that had spent years and years and years fomenting. Waiting to erupt, to drag in the people of Hyrule and shed their blood across the land. He was thinking of everything all at once, hoping both that he could die and that he could live. He craved death, to finally feel respite from the heavy burden that had crashed upon his shoulders, to finally forget Damita's face. But he craved life, so that he could see Hyrule flourish. So that he could watch everything that he had worked for become a reality, to see his friends and his loved ones and those who had been loyal get their reward. He wanted to live so that he could continue to protect Hyrule.

He wasn't sure which he wanted more.

Outside, where fires were being lit and troops were beginning to prepare themselves, he heard excited voices and frightened voices and weapons being sharpened and drinks being downed. He would never forgive himself if those voices were silenced.

_Just fight as you always have,_ she said as she stroked his cheeks. _You'll win._

"But then you—"

_Shh. Just fight as you always have, Link. Just fight. _

He ran his hands along his face and just relished in the darkness for a little bit, wondering what it would be like to perpetually be in that darkness. He might as well have already known, because everything had been so dark for so long. When he opened his eyes and forced himself back into the light, something caught his eye in the corner of the tent, peeking out from beneath his glimmering sword.

It was the tunic that Zelda had given him—the tunic that represented his true purpose.

"Is that even a purpose I want?" he asked himself. And then, as he continued to stare at the pile of green cloth, he began shaking his head. "Of course it is. It's the purpose I already had."

His footsteps made the entire ground shake as he walked to the corner. With fingers that were still and passionate, he lifted his white tunic and let it crumple to the floor. He stepped out of his boots, let his trousers fall to the floor, and ruffled his knotted blond hair. And then, with closed eyes, he pulled the tan leggings up to his waist and slipped into the white, long-sleeved shirt, lacing the collar. He let the heaviness of the chain mail overtake him, felt it liberate him. As an emotion that he could only describe as beautiful washed over him, he pulled the green tunic over his head and felt the power surge through him. Finally, with limbs as steady as the ocean and a strange sense of pure happiness, he tightened the brown belt, pulled the arm guards up to his elbows, stepped into his boots again, and put the shimmering green hat on his head.

"It fits you so perfectly."

He turned around to face Zelda. She was standing at the entrance of the tent, her hair pulled back and her hands clasped in front of her. She was wearing the same dress that she had been wearing when they had first rescued her.

_It does fit you perfectly._

Silently, he picked up the Master Sword and let it fall into the scabbard on his back. He wouldn't let the expression on his face change, not even when he saw tears once again streaming down Zelda's face. But they weren't tears of sadness or tears of grief; they were tears of happiness, tears of pride.

"Am I fit to wear it...?" he murmured, more to himself than to her.

Instead of answering, Zelda walked up to him, grabbed his gloved hands, and held them. And they just stood in silence, his hands encased in hers, Damita lingering beside him. Their Triforces glowed more brightly than the stars.

"Zelda."

He pressed his forehead against hers because he felt the need to be close to her. As close as he could. She breathed out so deeply that he felt revived, as if her breath brought him life. He held onto her fingers more tightly and Damita's hands joined theirs.

"I'm so sorry," he said. The words had been sitting on his lips, pressing against his chest, for what seemed like years. And he felt like he couldn't say it enough. "I'm so, so sorry."

"What are you apologizing for, Hero?" she smiled. "What are you apologizing for?"

"Everything. Anything."

"Now is not the time for regrets."

Her grip on his fingers loosened, and that scared him more than he thought it would. It made him hold onto her more desperately.

"Now is the time for you to embrace the courage inside of you," she continued. "It is the time for you to do what you were born to do. To serve as Hyrule's protector. Its guardian."

_Go ahead. You can kiss her, my love. I'm still right here. _

With Damita's voice helping him forward, he brought his lips closer to Zelda's. But just as they brushed, just as he felt the promise of relief, she turned her face. His mouth brushed her cheek. She began slowly, painfully shaking her head. And the happy tears once again turned to sad tears.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. It was the only thing that kept him sane at that moment. "I'm sorry."

Her hands slid out of his grip, leaving him almost breathless. But before she turned her back and walked out, holding back her sobs, she bent down and handed him his shield. The shield that Rusl had given him. The shield of the hero.

And then she said, "I'll be by your side during battle."

He thought to himself, "I want you by my side right now," but he couldn't say it. So he just watched her walk out and took solace in Damita's ever-fading presence.

* * *

The two armies met just where Link had predicted they would.

It was a few kilometers from the gates to Castle Town, in a valley between two hills. The sun was just beginning to rise as the soldiers glimpsed each other rising over those hills, their breath crystallizing in the red air. The grass was whistling, calling out as the horses' hooves trampled forward. Two leaders: one with eyes and hair like fire who had a trail of blood behind him, and one clad in the hero's green garb who had a trail of blood in front of him. Link and Ganondorf lifted their swords at the same moment from the backs of their horses, to signal to their troops to halt. The King of Thieves' thick lips turned up into a gruesome smile, while the Ancient Hero's lips turned down in a determined grimace. A row of archers stood at the top of each hill, arrows nocked and bows raised. Soldiers on foot unsheathed their swords, their spears, their daggers, their hammers, their axes. Sheik and Ashei stood on either side of Link, while Zelda stood in the center of the archers awaiting the signal to fire. Damita and Nabooru stood on either side of Ganondorf, their swords crossed in front of them and their skin stained with blood.

Her presence, the kind and loving one that had been clinging to Link for days, for months, for years, suddenly evaporated. His eyes fell upon her and she disappeared, saying, _Just fight as you always have, Link. Just fight as you always have. _

He ran his fingers through Epona's mane and tightened his grip on his sword. Then he looked over his shoulder up at Zelda, and she was staring back down at him with eyes filled to the brim with anger.

And then, suddenly, the three of them felt indescribable pain.

Triforces shined up from the back of those three hands and they let out bloodcurdling screams as pangs of ancient, heavy pain coursed through their veins.

Power—the Rebel leader led his troops forward.

Courage—the Loyalist leader led his troops forward.

Wisdom—the Princess let her arrows fly and she watched from above.

The goddesses in the heavens wove their fingers together as the battle unfurled and the grass whistled more loudly, drowning in flurries of blood.


	51. The Story of Light and Shadow

Chapter Fifty: The Story of Light and Shadow

Soon enough, Link couldn't tell the difference between the sound of his breathing, the sound of Epona's steps, or the sound of his sword cutting down Rebel after Rebel. He felt the heaviness of the blade in his palms and saw the drips of blood falling from its tip as they crumbled at his feet. One after another after another. His sword clashed with Rebel weapons, and they fought him with a valiance he could not deny. But he gritted his teeth, he tightened his grip on his sword, and he let out his battle cry. He saw it in their eyes when they fell: they were happy to die for what they believed in. It was the same as the Loyalists—he heard it in the bloodcurdling screams of his soldiers as they fell around him, fought with everything they had and sacrificed everything they had.

As blood tainted his vision, everything began moving in slow motion. When he swung his sword across their throats, he saw it with such clarity and with such detail that when he closed his eyes, he could replay the image just as it had been. But nothing stopped him. He continued to fight, to show what it really meant to be the best swordsman in Hyrule. He continued to fight.

Just as he always had.

* * *

All of the power, all of the skill, all of the bloodlust that Damita had been lacking for the past few months rushed back to her as soon as she drew her swords. She could see the princess standing on top of that hill, shooting arrows into the eyes of her comrades, and there was nothing that could stand in Damita's way. Absolutely nothing. As soon as Ganondorf gave the word, she licked her lips, ran her swords along each other, and leaped into battle with the knowledge that none would be able to best her. Princess Zelda would try to fight—but she would fail. She would die with her throat slit, gasping for air, pleading for mercy. And then Damita's name would go down in history and she could die in peace.

She didn't have to scream. She didn't have to wipe the blood from her face. She didn't even have to tense her muscles. She just let her swords fly and watched the Loyalists, enemies who had once been friends, fall before her. Their screams echoed in her ears, and it made the corners of her lips twitch upwards. She remembered now why she was such a good assassin: killing made her adrenaline pump. It made her feel alive, it made her feel as if she had purpose.

Taking someone else's life was an act of god.

* * *

Sheik didn't need weapons. He never had; after all, he had become incomparable in hand-to-hand combat. He knew which points of the body to hit, which nerves to strike, where to dart and where to jab and where to pinpoint. It was like an art. The most perfect thing of all was that Sheik hated to kill. He never wanted to see his hands tainted with blood like that, even if it was a Rebel. So the idea of being able to paralyze somebody in the blink of an eye was absolutely perfect. He could avoid the swings of the swords, of the axes, leap to the side as Rebels swung uselessly at his head, and then with one jab of his arm they would fall to the ground. Still breathing.

"I just saved your life," he would spit. "You're a lucky bastard. Any other Loyalist would have your head on a platter."

And then he would lift the cloth back over his mouth and nose, crack his neck, and move forward, still wondering how long it would take Link to kill Ganondorf.

Or, Din forbid, the other way around.

* * *

Nabooru liked to smile when she did it. She knew that if she were about to die, she would want to see her killer smile at her. She wasn't sure why, but that was what she thought. And so, each time she twisted in the air and brought her sword to someone's throat, she smiled, made sure the sparkle in her eyes was bright as theirs dimmed. Most of the Loyalists were skilled fighters; of that she was certain. And in the midst of the turmoil that was war, while a stained breeze blew around her, she found herself breathless at times. But none could come close to besting her. She knew that in all of the Loyalist camp, there were two people and two people alone who had the capability to kill her, and neither would ever dare.

"A pity," she would laugh to herself. "Their lives would be so much easier if I were dead."

And then she would dig her sword into the mud to clean it, leaving it perfect for the next layer of blood. While she fought, though, there was something else in the back of her brain. Something other than the complete annihilation of Loyalists.

She prayed to the goddesses that if anything, Damita would make it out alive.

* * *

Each time Zelda shot an arrow, it hit its mark. On either side of her, other Loyalist archers were shooting arrow after arrow, nocking and letting fly. But she took her time. She would nock her arrow, aim for a single Rebel, and then watch. Without fail, without hindrance, without any mistakes, she hit where she wanted every time. But also without fail, her stomach would twist and turn on itself, causing her entire body to shake with agony. There were people dying because she was forcing them to. There were loved ones flying up to the heavens, even if their time on earth was not finished. And it was because she decided it, with her own hands.

"But if the goddesses are giving me strength," she said, "it has to be right."

She continued repeating that in her head as she released her arrows and watched blood fall. She saw Sheik, leaving a trail of unconscious Rebels behind him. She saw that woman with the red hair, smiling as she forced blood to fall. She saw the beautiful assassin, moving like a storm. And she saw Link, swinging his sword and riding and almost glowing with divinity.

Then she saw him. The King of Evil. Just looking at him, even from afar, made every inch of her skin burn.

He wasn't fighting. He was simply standing on the opposite hill, atop his black, red-eyed horse. She could sense his smile, overpoweringly cruel and overpoweringly ruthless. She saw the puppet strings around his fingers as he ordered chaos to unfurl. She saw the raw evil in his eyes.

_Link. O Chosen Hero of the Gods. _

She looked back down at him as he carved the path toward peace.

_You are the key. You are the guardian. You are the protector. _

She nocked another arrow.

_So open the doors. Guard your people. Protect this land._

* * *

Link looked up and saw Ganondorf smirking down at him from his pedestal, surrounded by soldiers who were willing to die for him.

_Am I like that? _he thought.

Then he decided that it was now or never. It was at this moment that he felt the courage, the true courage instilled in his being as a decision from the heavens, push him forward like the strongest gust of wind. He twisted his sword in his hand and dug his heels into Epona's belly, and with a loud bray she leaped into the air and began galloping up the hill. Link never let his guard down. He cut down any Rebel that tried to stop him, winced as Epona's skin was tainted red, but kept moving. And he could sense Ganondorf's eyes on him, watching him come up, calling out to him. Finally he was at the top of the hill.

At the same time, reading each other all too well, the two leaders dismounted their steeds. Everything suddenly became silent. They were alone. Their Triforces glowed as they readied their swords, and Link felt something so surreal. So divine. He felt his purpose, his destiny as the hero, shining up through Ganondorf's wicked smirk.

"You look so familiar to me in that tunic," he said. "Like a long lost friend."

Link narrowed his eyes and bent his knees.

"But the past is the past, you know. Heroes fall just as victims rise to claim what is rightfully theirs."

He drew his sword. It was long and white, but it had tales of sorrow engraved in its blade. Link saw his reflection in it and nearly drew back. But he didn't. He stood his ground.

Ganondorf laughed a horrible laugh. He threw his head back and let his voice fill the universe, carried by the wind.

"Show me what the hero has become two hundred years later," he cackled. "Read to me the story of light and shadow!"

* * *

Damita was getting closer. As more and more Loyalists crumbled at the hands of her two swords, she felt the princess's presence growing stronger. She was so close. That was what kept her moving, even as her body trembled with the desire to rest. She took one step after another, each one fueled by more power than the last. The fear that surrounded her like a shield made her strong—the Loyalists trembled in her wake. They knew who she was, what she stood for, what she had done in her lifetime. And it scared them. She felt it. She basked in it.

"She's right there," she murmured.

She was almost all the way up the hill to the line of archers. The princess was standing in the center, the symbol of everything and anything Damita hated. She needed her dead. Needed her in pain, needed her screaming for mercy from the goddesses.

_You won't get any,_ she thought. _I'll make sure of it. _

But when Damita took another step closer, the ground began to rumble. Every soldier on the battlefield stopped, gripped their weapons more tightly, felt the earth shake beneath their feet. And then she saw them rising up from behind the hill, smiling and screaming and drawing their weapons.

It was another army.

An army of Zoras and Gorons, come to fight them.

* * *

"Ya!"

Link was thrown back by the force of the first collision. Sparks flew around him as his blade scraped Ganondorf's, blinded him for a single moment. He dug his heels into the ground and pushed himself forward, back toward the very manifestation of evil itself. The two swords met once more, shaking the entire earth. Link pushed against his enemy's sword with as much strength as he could muster, felt Ganondorf pushing back, until their faces were inches away. And then, Ganondorf smirked, and both of them stumbled backward from the sheer force. Link was beginning to strategize, beginning to find weak spots in Ganondorf's stance, the way he held his sword, the way he moved—anything. But that was when he realized that strategy was pointless. This battle was a timeless one. This battle was one of instinct. So he released all of the tension in his bones and let himself fly forward, let himself swing the sword as if it were a reflex, let himself forget about what Ganondorf was going to do next or what Ganondorf wasn't going to do next. He simply fought, his feet doing whatever they may.

Link swung his sword horizontally and was blocked. He jabbed his sword forward and was blocked. He brought it down vertically and was blocked. It seemed like Ganondorf was using so little strength when he moved his sword ever so slightly to shield himself or when he took the smallest step backward, forward, sideways.

Then it was Ganondorf's turn to attack, and when he did, Link suddenly noticed how small he was compared to the Rebel leader.

First Ganondorf swung from above. Link lifted his sword and could feel the edges of the blade fall just away from his cheeks. Then he swung across Link's chest—but just before the tip of the sword tore through his tunic, he jumped backward and felt the droplets of sweat fall from his forehead. With a terrible, bloodcurdling cackle, Ganondorf took another step forward and let his sword fly again. Link was just barely able to raise his shield, but the force of the blow knocked it from his hands and into the grass, what seemed to be miles and miles and miles away.

Before Ganondorf could take advantage, Link gritted his teeth and gripped the hilt of his sword with both hands and swung it diagonally, straight across Ganondorf's chest. The King of Thieves threw his head back and screamed as his blood fell into the grass and the front of his robe was ripped to shreds.

And then, Link saw it.

The shimmering, gaping hole in the center of Ganondorf's stomach.

_I've seen this before,_ he said. _I...I..._

"Not again," Ganondorf seethed, his breathing heavy. "NOT AGAIN!"

Before Link could regain his senses, Ganondorf brought his fist up beneath his chin, and the world began to spin. And as it spun, around and around and around, that horrible white sword came forward at the speed of light. Yet somehow, in his daze, Link was able to force himself backward onto his back, watching the sword jab straight above him. Ganondorf screamed again in frustration, but it was a demonic scream. One riddled with insanity. He stepped forward and lifted his sword above Link's chest, drove it down. But with instincts as honed as any warrior's, Link rolled the side and felt the ground shake.

_I'm not going to die_, he kept repeating in his head. _I'm not going to die!_

He stumbled back to his feet and decided to take the offensive.

It was time to end it.

_May the goddesses help me. _

_ May they not forsake me. _

_ May they not forsake Hyrule. _


	52. Forgiveness

**I hate this chapter.**

**Hopefully you'll like it.**

**War is chaotic, right? So this chapter fits?**

**Yeah whatever enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter Fifty-One: Forgiveness

"Looks like I found you."

"Lucky me, huh?"

Nabooru and Sheik stood facing each other in the midst of war, surrounded by it. They smiled, as if they were old friends simply sharing greetings, before they fell on each other like wolves. She bared her fang-like teeth and swung straight at his neck. Sheik, without moving his feet, bent backwards and watched the sword cut through air before grabbing her wrist and jabbing at her neck. But Nabooru was ready for him. She lifted her other hand and blocked his jab perfectly, then brought her elbow straight up against his nose. As blood began seeping through his cloth, his grip on her wrist loosened, and she was able to wrestle it away and swing her sword once more. Sheik, with a cynical laugh, ducked as if he had seen the attack from a mile away and wiped the blood from his face.

"Yeah, you're not getting away that easy," he smirked.

"I hadn't been expecting to," she replied.

"You've definitely improved, I'll give you that."

"Don't patronize me, boy."

He could see the anger on her face now. She took a light step forward and spun, bringing her sword around with her. This time, Sheik jumped up. He placed one foot on the blade of her sword, and thrust the sole of his other foot into her chest, catapulting himself backward with a graceful somersault before landing on the ground. Nabooru stumbled, heaved to catch her breath, and Sheik advanced again. He bent his knees, kept on his toes, and jabbed his fingers into her stomach. As she doubled over, he swung his elbow to her temple, practically felt the crack of her skull. He could see her eyes spinning. Sheik whirled around and brought the front of his foot to her knee, left her crumpling.

But he let his guard down for a single second.

He waited for her to fall to her knees so he could deliver the final blow, but Nabooru was stronger than that. He underestimated her. As he loosened up, released the tension for that one moment, she pounced. Everything began moving in slow motion for Sheik and everything became red. Her arm flew up, her sword with it, and it sliced straight through his arm. It sliced deeply. So deeply that the pain Sheik felt at that moment was unlike any physical pain he had ever felt. The only thing he could see was red.

He was vaguely aware of himself screaming as he grasped his arm and fell to his knees, suddenly resigned to the idea that death had begun calling to him.

* * *

As the ground shook and the princess felt the strength of the Loyalists increase, she stared over the heads of the warriors. She stared past the blood, past the clashing of the weapons, past all of it. She saw only power and courage battling on the hilltop. Power dominates—but courage prevails, fights back. But wisdom, what does wisdom do? What is wisdom's role? Her grip on the bow tightened as she watched the battle between Link and Ganondorf from afar. She wanted to open her mouth and scream his name, call for him to tell him that she was there.

_But I'm not there,_ she thought. _I'm here._

For a few moments Zelda simply closed her eyes and submerged into the chaos. Her life was hanging on a thread. Her kingdom was hanging on a thread. Everything was hanging on a single thread that was sitting in the balance, and she felt that if she reached out her hand, she could grab it and either break it or mend it.

The princess's eyes shot open and she began to run. She ran as fast as her legs would carry her, gripping her bow and praying that the goddesses would protect her for just a little bit longer. Just long enough for her to reach them. For wisdom to play its role in the story of light and shadow, the dance between courage and power. She heard so much screaming, felt the blood beneath her feet with each step that she took, was aware of dying fingers reaching up and pulling at the ends of her dress. But she kept running. When swords swung, she ducked. When arrows were shot, she jumped forward. She just couldn't stop.

Gorons and Zoras had joined them on the battlefield, fighting to protect the Royal Family. When she had seen them appear, Laruto and Darunia at the helm, her heart had soared. Of course the Loyalists would win. Of course they could defeat the Rebels.

But that wasn't the question.

The question was whether courage could overcome power.

Whether the key would actually unlock the door to peace.

So Princess Zelda continued to run.

But as she ran, she heard a single familiar scream shoot up through the chaos as if it were right in her ear. With an abrupt stop, she turned to find the voice, whirled around madly searching, until her eyes fell upon the one who had screamed.

Sheik was on his knees, grasping his bleeding arm, trembling as if there were an earthquake beneath him. And standing above him was the woman with the red hair, smiling and holding up her sword. As if she were about to make a sacrifice to the gods.

Before Zelda could even think, she nocked an arrow and shot it at the woman.

The arrow lodged itself in Nabooru's side and she toppled over, but Zelda had already continued running toward the hill before she even hit the ground.

* * *

Damita watched her prey beginning to run as she fought back a strong Zora warrior, cursing herself for letting her guard slip. All she wanted was to be able to wring the princess's neck, and the Zoras and Gorons had arrived at the most inopportune moment. And even more frustrating was the fact that the princess had beaten her—she had convinced the Gorons to fight for the Loyalists. Her fury began to mount higher and higher, to the point that she could only see red. She pushed back against her enemies and kept her eye constantly on the princess, who had suddenly bolted off down the battlefield, into the fray in her muddy dress and unkempt hair and bundle of arrows.

It was as if there were a silver sphere of divinity surrounding her as she ran, keeping her from harm. Damita moved her eyes to the sky and asked the goddesses why they would do something so horrible, why they would protect the princess. Damita didn't know where she was running and she didn't care, but she struggled to follow. Zoras and Gorons and humans alike attacked her from all sides and she found herself tripping over herself in an attempt to fight them off and follow the princess at the same time. Yet there was Zelda, running with the speed of the wind, completely and utterly protected by something that couldn't be defined. Something that was meant to spite Damita, surely.

"You won't get away," she cursed. "You can't!"

Even as she stumbled, even as scars began covering her skin, even as the blades of grass tasted her blood, she continued to run after the princess. She ran and fought and ran and fought, until finally, Damita found herself climbing the hill. Zelda hadn't missed a beat. But she was running toward something Damita hadn't been expecting, something that made her blood run cold: the battle between Link and Ganondorf. She was running straight for it, and as she drew closer, she nocked an arrow.

_No,_ Damita gritted her teeth, dragging her feet up the hill. _Why are you running toward them?_

She saw Link as she drew and closer and closer to his isolated battlefield, heard the clashing of his sword.

_Why are you forcing me to run toward what I've been running from for so long?_

* * *

Zelda considered screaming out his name, just to tell him that she was there. That she was by his side just like she said she would be. That she was ready to fight for him. But something was telling her not to, a deep inner knowledge she couldn't complete understand. Instead of opening her mouth and letting the words, the exclamations, the screams ebb forward, she simply nocked an arrow and stopped at the top of the hill. She stood a good distance away from the battle, just far enough that she could watch what was happening, but she was away from the evil draw of it. Something was heavy about the string of her bow when she drew it back.

It looked like something she had seen in a dream. Link was glowing, like gold, and Ganondorf was surrounded by a black aura. The swords clashed like magnets that were meant to have met. When the wind blew, she could feel the words of the endless, timeless story drifting around her. She saw Link breathing heavily, wincing with each step, opening his mouth and screaming when he swung his sword. And the King of Evil laughed. And then he laughed again. And again. The smirk never left his lips, even as he was forced backward by the flurry of Link's attacks. There, on his stomach, she could see the gaping hole shimmering an eerie white.

The princess wasn't sure what to do at that point. She was standing, bow drawn, ready to let her arrow fly. But she didn't know what Link wanted, what Hyrule needed, what the goddesses had preordained. So she stood and waited for a sign, a feeling, anything that would tell her what to do.

As she stood, trembling, she saw something appear on the tip of the arrow. It was a small bead of light that seemed to have dropped like rain from the sky. Before Zelda could react, that single bead of light exploded into a yellow beam surrounding the entire arrow, making it as light as a feather and as blinding as the sun. She stumbled backward and tried to keep her fingers from shaking. Power and wisdom and courage coursed through her, as if it flowed into her body from that single, glowing arrow.

_Light arrow. A gift of the goddesses, to banish evil. _

And then, while the princess took aim at Ganondorf's heart, she saw something out of the corner of her eye.

She turned her face and saw the silver-haired girl running toward her, swords raised, the desire for blood bright in her eyes.

* * *

Damita, trying as hard as she could to ignore Link's overwhelming presence, ran toward the light. It was coming from the princess's arrow, like a golden shroud surrounding her. But she wasn't about to be deterred, even if it was a sign from the goddesses. She had come all this way, been driven by the desire to see Zelda die, and she was not going to back down. She raised her swords and ran and relished in the expression of absolute astonishment on the princess's face when she turned. Damita didn't bother opening her mouth, didn't bother screaming, didn't even bother smiling. She simply swung her swords at the princess's neck.

Just before the tips of her sword made contact with Zelda's skin, she brought up her bow, stopping the blades in their track. The wood chipped and the princess was thrown backward, but her weapon didn't break. And Damita didn't care. She was hardly aware of what was happening around her, even in front of her. Fury and rage and pure hatred had taken control of her limbs, of her vision, of every thought that ran through her mind. It was all directed like fire toward killing Princess Zelda.

With her face as still as stone, Damita swung her swords again. She wasn't trying to strategize, she wasn't trying to be skillful. She was simply swinging, nearly insane with her thirst for blood. And the princess saw that. She twirled the bow in her trembling hands and blocked again, was thrown back again. Still she didn't fall. Still her weapon didn't break. And still she stood on her two feet and faced Damita with a regal air about her. Out of the corner of her eye, Damita could see the arrow in the grass where the princess had dropped it, glowing more brightly than the sun. And somewhere in the back of her mind she could hear Link's screams, and they cut deep down into her soul, but it was all subconscious. For the only thing of which she was conscious was the fact that the princess was still alive.

She swung her swords again, both in the same direction.

This time, Zelda's strength wasn't enough. The bow flew from her hands into oblivion, leaving her as naked as a baby. Damita didn't smile. She didn't grimace. She simply stared. And the princess didn't smile. She didn't grimace. She simply stared back.

"Now that I'm seeing you so close," she said, "I can see. You are as frightening and as beautiful as they say."

Damita leaped into the air and raised her swords, high enough so that when she brought them down, the princess's head would roll. But Zelda's reflexes were quicker than she had been expecting. She spun to the side—although Zelda's head didn't roll, her blood was spilt. And the smell of it made Damita's heart race. She landed and straightened up, stared down at the princess and ran her swords together in triumph. They had cut across the princess's stomach, leaving her gasping and doubled over, pressing the wound with both palms.

She could hardly remember why she even wanted the princess dead.

"Do you see it?" she hissed. "Do you see death coming for you, Princess Zelda?"

Zelda lifted her eyes, so that she was staring straight into Damita's.

"I think I do. And perhaps it's for the best."

She stumbled, her eyelids fluttered, she pressed harder against her wound while Damita readied her swords for the final blow.

"Do you know what life is about, Damita?"

Damita narrowed her eyes and lifted her swords.

"It's about forgiveness. And I've forgiven. Even you. Even myself."

And then, Princess Zelda smiled at her.


	53. Her Choice

Chapter Fifty-Two: Her Choice

There was absolutely nothing else. It was only him. Only him and Ganondorf, breathing, bleeding, swinging their swords, stumbling, laughing, crying, all with the same rhythm. Link's lips were bleeding. His fingers were bleeding. His legs were bleeding. He could practically feel his heart bleeding. When he flung his arm in the same way that he had been doing for the past eighteen years of his life, it was painful. When he moved to the side to avoid the fatal swing of that white sword, it was painful. When the tip of his sword occasionally found its way into Ganondorf's skin, it was painful. And when the tip of Ganondorf's sword occasionally found its way into his own skin, it was painful.

The Rebel leader was stronger than the Loyalist leader. But the Loyalist leader was more skillful, and he felt the power of the goddesses on his side. They wanted him to win. That was why for years and years, his one purpose had been to train. To fight. Now, when all of that training was concentrating itself in his movements, he knew that it was all for a reason. It was his fate to kill Ganondorf. It was the reason he was alive, the reason he had been born, the reason he would continue to live—even if it was just for a little bit longer.

Ganondorf brought his sword down and Link brought up his own sword, locking them in a stand-still. They pushed against each other, dug their heels into the ground, glared into each other's eyes. Link felt his arms shaking as he struggled to push back, to keep from _being_ pushed back, to finally end this. Blood dripped, as if it were endless, from the large wound on Ganondorf's chest. And still there was a demonic smile on his face, and still he was able to push back with the strength of ten men.

Something suddenly flashed in the distance, a golden light that was like a magnet to Link's gaze. He turned his eyes away from the fire for a single second. There, standing a distance away, was Princess Zelda. She had in her hands a bow and arrow, but they were glowing so brightly that he had to squint. For that single moment that Link was distracted, mesmerized by the pure manifestation of divinity that had presented itself before him in such a perfect manner, he felt safe. Secure. As if there was absolutely nothing to worry about.

And then Ganondorf took advantage of his single moment of security. The King of Evil gave one dramatic push, and Link stumbled back, leaving himself entirely open. With the triangle on the back of his hand glowing a bright, dangerous red, Ganondorf jabbed his sword straight toward Link's exposed chest.

But Ganondorf had made the same fatal mistake as everyone who had found themselves facing the Hero of Courage. The same mistake that had left so many people dead in his wake...

The mistake of believing that Link would actually leave himself exposed like that.

_This is it._

With as much energy as was left inside of him, he stepped nimbly from the path of the sword, tightening his own grip. The touches of a smile played on his crumbling lips as he crouched down, grasped the hilt of the Master Sword with both hands, and thrust the blade up into the shimmering white wound.

Ganondorf's scream up toward the goddesses sounded like the end.

But when Link heard another scream, one that he hadn't been expecting, he realized it wasn't the end. He saw Damita, standing with her swords raised, over a bleeding princess. It wasn't the end. Not yet.

Link had never felt this kind of urgency before. Without thinking, without control over his own limbs, he drew his sword from the wound, left Ganondorf shrieking, ran as fast as he could, and yelled out her name.

He wasn't sure if he yelled out Damita's name or Zelda's name.

* * *

Finally, the princess was going to die.

Damita brought her swords down in a very final way—but the blow was cut off. Suddenly, her weapons made contact with another one, a large sword with a blue hilt that pushed her back. And then his face was inches from hers, grimacing, so close that she could feel his breath. Everything began crumbling inside of her, so much that she pushed back against him.

"Get out of my way," she murmured.

"You can't do this."

He was shaking his head and she could see the muscles in his jaw clenching. He was making the face he used to make when he was his most serious—when he had something he wanted, something he needed, something he was determined to get. When she looked past him, she saw the princess fall to her knees and felt a horrible pang of desperation.

"Get out of my way!"

She put all of her weight against her wrists and thrust her arms out with every ounce of strength she had. It was just barely enough to force Link back a single step. She ran her swords along his toward the ground and was blinded by the sparks. Damita didn't even give herself the chance to catch her breath. She swung at him again. Knowing, of course, that he would block. But she swung anyway. She didn't want to lose to him again.

_No, that's not it,_ she thought. _I don't care about losing to him. I care about losing to myself. And it's not going to happen._

He blocked her right hand, and as he did, she swung her left around toward the side of his head. In a single breakneck second, he spun around beneath her arm and brought his sword around with him. But she was ready. As soon as she saw his blade fly, she lifted her right arm across her body and blocked the swing, leaving the deadly side of the sword only inches from her skin. Then they paused because they had made eye contact and it was a fiery kind of eye contact, the kind that made it so that they couldn't look away.

"Why are you fighting me?" he asked. She could sense his entire body relaxing. "Why?"

"Because I need to," she replied. She wasn't sure if she believed in her own words.

"You don't _need_ to do anything!" he screamed. It was a desperate scream, one that rang throughout the entire sky and made her flinch. "Nobody needs to do anything! You do whatever you choose to do!"

Damita wasn't sure of the emotions that she was feeling. She wasn't even sure that she was feeling any emotions at all. All she could feel were the warm tears rushing down her cheeks as she stared into his eyes and tried to remember what love truly was. Was that what had happened between them? Something so strong it made her cry, but so weak that she was willing to fight him?

He looked like an angel.

Damita clenched her teeth harder and advanced again, aiming her swords at his chest. The tears never stopped, even as she ran to draw his blood. The angel brought his sword up horizontally in front of him and gave a single push. It made her stumble backward, and he took advantage. He swung left. Her right sword flew. He swung right. Her left sword flew. With nothing left but desperation and sorrow, Damita used the only thing she had left: her fist. She tightened her fingers and aimed for his temple. But, like a reflex, his right hand came up and grabbed her wrist. Pulled her wrist. Their foreheads touched, their tears and their breath mingled. Damita's senses came back to her with that touch. She stared into his eyes and felt the one thing she had been trying not to feel: overwhelming love. She realized that she was on the battlefield, at the top of a hill completely blanketed in red, facing the one person she had vowed to love forever.

_I lost sight of everything. _

_ I am losing sight of everything. _

_ I will lose sight of everything. _

_ But I can't. _

_ I can't lose sight of him._

_ I'd rather lose sight of myself. _

Damita lost the will to fight. She lost the will to move. She lost the will to breathe. She lost the will to live.

"You do whatever you choose to do," she echoed his words. She slumped forward, felt nothing but the most powerful regret, the most powerful sorrow swimming in her bones.

_He _is_ my everything._

_But aren't _I_ my everything?_

_I don't know what he is._

_I don't know what I am._

_I don't know anything. _

_ And I've lost sight of anything. _

_ He knows I have. _

"I did choose, after all," she continued. She felt him beginning to shake his head and tighten his grip around her wrist. But she couldn't feel it. "There's only one bad choice I've made, you know."

She felt a sob escape his lips.

Or perhaps her lips?

Perhaps both.

"The only bad choice I've ever made is loving you. Because it's a choice I can't get out of. Not then, not now, not ever."

"You're destroying yourself..." he murmured.

Her entire body was growing cold and she shivered.

"Is that a choice, too?" she wondered.

Then she somehow, from deep within her, remembered the princess. She remembered the smile on her face and so, desperate to feel him love her, she smiled, too. Link pushed his forehead against hers even more until the edges of their lips brushed.

"It's your turn, Link."

"Stop it—"

"Make your choice."

"Damita—"

"No," she smiled again. "Don't make your choice. Make mine...please."

There was perfect, golden silence when he kissed her. The most gentle kiss she had ever felt. And then he made her choice because she had asked him to, because he felt it was right, because he wanted to forever remember her smile.

It was the choice she had wanted him to make. The choice that meant he loved her just as much as she loved him.

He lifted his lips from hers, tightened his fingers around her wrist, and drove his sword and his tears into her stomach.

* * *

Zelda couldn't stay on her feet anymore. She dropped to her knees, still clutching the open wound in her side and wishing—for a single moment—that it had killed her. Just to save her from the pain of it. It was piercing, completely blinding. Perhaps in the midst of her body's screams she heard Link. Saw him leap forward out of the corner of her eye, drive off the swords that were to be her death. With a grateful smile, she stared down at the tiny blades of grass and bit her lip so hard that she felt it crack, wondering how much longer this pain in her side would last before she could finally rise up to the heavens and apologize to the goddesses. On her behalf, perhaps on Link's behalf.

Perhaps the fact that he was there meant he had won. That everything was over.

But perhaps it meant that he had failed. That he had forgotten his real purpose.

Zelda was too confused, too blinded by pain to know which one.

As the world began spinning and everything grew blurry, she noticed something. It was the arrow there, in the grass, still glowing. And it was calling out to her, almost drawing her toward it. Laying a few feet away from the arrow was her bow, chipped and nearly broken, but it was calling out to her as well. She couldn't figure out why.

_I'm so confused,_ she thought. _I don't know what's happening, where I am, who I am..._

Then she noticed something else.

Kneeling and offering his upturned face to the heavens was Ganondorf, his white chest completely exposed and his blood rushing out. She could see the mark of the Master Sword in him, could feel that Link had done what he was meant to do.

But she could see him breathing. He was still breathing. He was still alive. His eyes still searching for something to grab onto.

Now blinded by pain and confusion alike, Zelda summoned whatever strength was left within her and forced herself to her feet. Each moment was more painful than the next, but she bit the insides of her cheek to keep from screaming and pressed her palm more firmly against the wound in her side. Then she began to walk toward the bow and arrow—calling her name.

_One step at a time. One...at...a...time._

By the time she reached it and fell into its golden light, all of her senses were overcome with physical agony.

_Just a little bit longer,_ she pleaded to the goddesses. _One more minute. I don't know what I'll do in that minute, but please. Then you can have me. _

Her fingers were so shaky and her eyesight was so blurry that she could barely grab the bow. But she did. And then she reached for the golden arrow.

Everything in her mind became clear when she touched it, wrapped her fingers around its shaft, somehow managed to stand up straighter. Her eyes moved to where Link was. Battling the silver-haired girl. Then her eyes moved to where Ganondorf was. Alive, cursing the heavens, having been defeated by the Hero of Courage. And yet there he was. Finally, her eyes moved to the heavens and it seemed as if for a moment, the bleeding in her wound stopped. The pain stopped. The blindness stopped. There was only clarity.

_I understand now. _

She nocked the golden arrow and aimed, once more, at the King of Evil's heart.

_They're not the key. Not the key my dream told me about. They're not the key._

She let the arrow fly and watched the world explode.

_I am._

The Light Arrow plunged into Ganondorf's heart at the exact same moment that the Master Sword plunged into Damita's stomach.


	54. As Golden as Divine Light

**Some intense feels coming your way (I hope?).**

**Listening to sad music really makes it more effective, so I would highly recommend that. **

* * *

Chapter Fifty-Three: As Golden as Divine Light

The world was spinning when Nabooru toppled over.

Everything was spinning.

She felt the most horrible pain she had ever felt bursting through her side, and her hand moved instinctively to the tender point in her skin. There, she felt the tip of an arrow embedded in her body. When she tried to move, to lift her face from the mud, she found herself immobilized. In fear? In pain? She couldn't tell. All she could tell was that she was unable to move. She clawed for the shaft of the arrow, suddenly desperate with the raw desire to live. But even as she clawed, as she used all of her strength to pull out that arrow, she saw the life she was trying to preserve slipping away.

It was at that point, when she realized that absolutely everything was slipping away, that Nabooru gave up.

She turned her gaze up to the hill, where she could see the flashes of swords and the bright red shade of bloodshed in the distance. She saw the silhouettes—of the one man she loathed, of the one man she loved. Of the one woman she loathed, of the one woman she loved. And she realized, lying there with her face covered in mud and an arrow seeping her life away, that she had failed.

Ganondorf was going to die.

Damita was going to die.

_She_ was going to die.

So she did the only thing that she could think to do.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry."

Everything was over.

* * *

The sword slipped from his fingers as he reached out for her. He caught her in his arms and fell to his knees, felt nothing but the deepest hatred for himself and for her and for the world. She was staring up at him with dimming, fluttering eyes, blood slid from the corner of her mouth, and her breathing was shallow. It seemed as if she were staring right past him, into another world at someone who was calling her name. Link held her as tightly as he could, brought his forehead down to hers, tried in vain to suppress his sobs.

"I'm sorry," he kept repeating.

Over and over and over.

He wasn't even sure to whom he was apologizing.

As he sat, bowed over her body in his arms, he felt her shaking fingers reach up and brush his cheek. The tenderness of her almost lifeless touch made his tears fall harder and his sobs grow louder. Link wasn't sure what he should've been feeling, what he should've been doing, what he should've been saying. All he could do was sit with Damita in his arms and feel her fingers against his skin and weep like a child.

"Link," she said. Her voice was soft, hoarse. Dying. "Doesn't this remind you of the first time we met?"

He lifted his head so that he could look into her eyes and grabbed her hand as tightly as he could because he wanted her to somehow feel how much he loved her. More than he could ever say. And even through the chaos of death's storm gathering around her, she was able to look up at him with those sparkling green eyes and smile. He realized that it really was like the first time they had met; her laying in his arms, he completely mesmerized by the angel that had somehow appeared before him like a gift from the heavens.

"Please don't cry," Damita said. "I don't want your tears to be the last thing I see."

It only made him cry harder and squeeze her hand more tightly and hate himself more.

"I'm sorry," he continued. It seemed to be the only thing he could see because remorse was the only thing he could feel.

"Princess Zelda told me something just now." Damita paused to suck in a patchy, desperate breath, but her smile never faded. "She told me that life is about forgiveness."

"I don't want you to leave me."

"I need you to do something for me, Link."

"I love you so much..."

"Forgive yourself," she said. "Forgive yourself. And forgive me, if you can find it in your heart."

"You gave me everything," he choked. "You taught me how to love. How to feel connected to someone. So...so how can I ever forgive myself—forgive you for doing this to me?"

"Will you forgive me if I tell you I'm sorry?"

Her grip on his fingers loosened as a bloody cough escaped her lips, and Link felt his entire life beginning to slip away from him. He stared down at her and saw nothing but beauty. Compassion. Eyes and a smile so full of love it made his heart burst. And then, he found himself smiling back. Because he thought that maybe she would want to see his smile.

"I will forgive myself and you for anything, for everything," he said. "I will forgive you now. I will forgive you forever. I will love you now. I will love you forever."

"Good." She sighed, as if a weight had been lifted from her chest. And then tears flowed like rivers from her eyes. "Because I will never forgive myself."

He squeezed her hand as if his life depended on it and gritted his teeth, to keep himself from screaming at the top of his lungs.

"If life is about forgiveness...Perhaps I never really lived at all."

Her eyes had begun to close, and when Link shouted out her name, he felt as if he were reaching out and trying to grab light. And it was just passing through his fingers.

"But I want you to have lived. That's why I want you to forgive...me."

He felt her breathing slowing in his arms and he couldn't even see through his tears.

"Damita, I forgive you, I forgive you. Please, you have to forgive yourself, you have to before—"

"I love you, Link," she murmured. "More than I could ever say..."

"Damita, _please!_"

"I love you, Link."

His name flew from her lips in the air of her last breath.

Link turned his face to the dark, clouded skies, cursed the goddesses for what they had done to him, and screamed. Because he didn't know what else to do but scream and scream and scream, drowning in his own tears as he held Damita in his arms. Telling her over and over that he loved her. That he forgave her. That he needed her.

But he knew, even as he screamed and cried and squeezed her cold hand, that it was all over.

Everything was over.

* * *

When Zelda opened her eyes, she felt warmth. She felt comfort. She felt security and she had a sense that there was balance. She was staring up at the bright blue sky and she was laying on the grass with a blanket over her, her body soaking up the sun and the natural beauty of it all. With the soft smile on her face never fading, she gently touched the spot where she had been stabbed—it was wrapped completely. And though the bandages were stained red and though she was lightheaded, the agonizing pain had subsided. She was thinking clearly, replaying through all of the memories.

Everything was over.

She let her sigh of relief ring out and then began to wonder where she was. There was no tent above her, but she could hear voices all around.

_Am I still in Hyrule Field...?_

Zelda looked to her right and saw that she was. There were Loyalists, those who were injured and those who were aiding the injured, scattered throughout the field, talking, tending to each other's wounds. Basking in a calm, final victory. Then she looked to her left. She saw Sheik lying there beside her on his side, his face scratched and stains of blood on his skin, eyes closed. Zelda, ignoring the pain, turned onto her shoulder so that she could face him as he slept. She saw wrapping similar to the one around her torso around his arm, and she was reminded of what had happened to him on the battlefield.

Then, without a word, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close to her. She pressed her lips to his forehead and in his slumber, he curled into her, buried his face in her neck.

"We did it, Sheik," she murmured. "It's finally over."

They lay there for what seemed like ages, Sheik fast asleep in Princess Zelda's arms. She didn't want to let go. She suddenly felt frightened, as if the emotions she should have been feeling on the battlefield were finally catching up to her. Her relief in seeing him alive, being able to feel his warmth, was almost enough to bring tears to her eyes.

"Princess! You're awake!"

The voice was familiar and smooth and it made Zelda's smile broader. She forced herself to let go of Sheik and sit up to find Malon racing toward her, skirt billowing, hair flying, hands waving frantically. Before the princess could even respond, Malon threw her arms around her and fell to the ground, laughing in pure delight. Zelda sucked in a breath but kept silent about the pain, and hugged Malon back.

"I'm so glad to see that you're okay!"

Malon pulled away and put her hands on Zelda's face, her eyes as bright and genuine as ever. Zelda smiled back, happy to see another familiar face.

"I'm glad to see you too, Malon."

"Oh, you must have been in quite the battle," she shook her head. "Your wounds were pretty bad."

"Yes, I was."

"I admire you so much, Princess. You were so brave."

"Malon...What happened, exactly?"

Malon's smile grew wider as she sat back on her heels and began twirling a lock of fiery red hair around her finger, moving her gaze from Zelda's eyes to the sky and then to the suddenly clean blades of grass.

"Well, after the Rebels realized that their leader had been killed, they all retreated. They headed back to the desert, I believe."

"I...I killed him, didn't I?"

Zelda furrowed her brow and glanced off into the distance, where she could imagine the defeated Rebels huddled on the steaming grains of sand.

"Link considered following them, but he decided that they had suffered enough. Without a leader and after being defeated so thoroughly, he figured they would just go into self-imposed exile," Malon explained.

"So we won."

"_Of course_ we won! You're safe, Princess. And Hyrule is safe."

Malon wrapped her arms around her once more, and Zelda couldn't stop the tears of joy that slipped from her eyes. In the end, the goddesses had heeded her pleas. They hadn't forsaken her—they had given her the strength, had given Link the strength, had given the Loyalists the strength, to restore peace and balance to Hyrule.

"It's over," she murmured. Malon was nodding, and she had tears in her eyes, too. They were large and glimmering.

"Yes. It's over, Princess. It's over."

The entire world seemed to have grown a little bit brighter. When she looked up at the sky, she saw the smiles of the goddesses portrayed in the clouds that floated by, in the perfect blueness. She smiled back and silently thanked them.

In her heart, she heard them thanking her, as well. And she heard them thanking the Hero of Courage, the Hero of the gods.

"Malon, where is Link?"

Her face fell a little bit and she sat, cross-legged, with her hands clasped tightly in her lap. There was such a strange sadness in her features. It was something Zelda couldn't quite identify, but she didn't have to. Because she knew what must have happened.

"He's up on the hill. Where the Rebel leader was...well, you know."

"I'm going to go see him."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea."

Zelda, biting her lower lip and moving as slowly as possible, dragged herself to her feet. But she realized at that moment that her dress was gone. The only thing covering her body was the wrapping. So with wide eyes she dragged the blanket up with her, wrapped it around her shoulders. Malon stared up at her wordlessly.

"I need to see him."

Malon sighed and gave her most gentle, heartfelt smile. Then she nodded, and with that, Zelda made her way toward the hill. Only when she began walking, feeling the grass brushing the soles of her feet, did she realize that she was barefoot. She weaved her way around the other members of the camp, stepped over the wounded, turned her eyes away from the bodies of those who hadn't been saved. The closer and closer she got to the hill, the more she became aware of the eerie breeze blowing. She tightened the blanket around her shoulders and kept walking. She was so determined, yet so quiet and so divine, that nobody said a word to her. They simply watched her as she made her way to the final scene of the battleground.

When she reached the top of the hill, and the breeze had grown so strong that her hair was flying in all directions and she was struggling to hold the blanket around her, she could see him. He was kneeling on the ground, crouched over something that Zelda couldn't see. His back was to her. Slowly, holding back shivers and the desire to call out his name, she began walking toward him. And with each step, the soft golden glow around him grew brighter. She looked up to the sky and the saw goddesses smiling down at him, too. In gratitude. He had done them well. And yet he knelt, he lowered his face. Zelda felt his sorrow and his pain more powerfully than she could feel her own, and the closer she was to him the more she felt it wrapping around her heart, squeezing.

Zelda finally found herself standing behind him, encased in that golden glow. And only then did she notice how much his body was trembling. Just over his shoulder, lying in the grass, she saw exactly what she had been expecting to see. It was the silver-haired girl. Her green eyes were hidden behind the shadow of death.

Link had laid her on her back, put her delicate hands on her motionless stomach, and had gathered beautiful white flowers to put in her hair. When Zelda looked down at her, she saw beauty in its most pure form. The girl wasn't smiling, exactly. But she wasn't frowning. She didn't look frightened in death. She looked even more beautiful than she had in life. The colorless pallor of cheeks made her look like a being from a completely different world. And he simply knelt, his trembling hands clutching the blades of grass around him. Zelda, since she was standing behind him, couldn't see the expression on his face. But she could only imagine the raw pain etched into his features, the tears that shimmered against his pale skin.

"She's beautiful."

Without turning around, Link began nodding. Then, a tremor encased his entire body, and she heard a single, despairing sob.

"You poor hero," she murmured. "Poor, poor hero of the gods."

Zelda could no longer control her actions. She wanted only to comfort him, to make him understand that he had done the right thing. He had done what was meant to be done, he had chosen his path, he had been right in his choices.

As she knelt down behind him, the blanket slipped off her shoulders and fell around her ankles in the grass. She let her forehead fall against his back, slid her arms beneath his and wrapped them around his chest. She held him against her, tightly but gently, to tell him that she was there for him. That he could cry with her. She felt his hands reach up to hers, clawing desperately for something to cling to. Even his fingers screamed of sorrow.

"I loved her so much," he whispered, his voice cracking. "More than I thought was possible to love."

"She loved you, too," Zelda breathed. She leaned her cheek against his back and squeezed him more tightly. "She loved you more than anything."

"How can you know that?" he croaked. "After everything that happened...how can you know?"

"Look at her face, Link. She's so beautiful. That face is the face of someone who left this world having felt the pain, the relief, the sorrow, the delight of love. Someone who felt it deep within them."

"I told her that I would forgive her...but how can I?"

His nails were digging into her hands, and she let them. Without a single complaint.

"That's what life is about. Forgiving people for their sins, forgiving people for their sacrifices. Forgiving people for their hatred and for their love."

"Did...did you forgive her?"

Zelda began nodding.

"I forgave her," she murmured. "I forgave her. I forgave you. I forgave myself."

Link's shoulders slumped further forward, his fingers clasped to hers like claws reaching for divinity, and his entire body shook with the strength of his sobs. Zelda simply knelt, her face against his back, her hands around his chest, holding him as they were encased in the golden light of the goddesses. The light that was calling their names and saying, "It's over."

The light encased Damita, as well. It was calling her name, thanking her, as well.

And then even Zelda felt the warmth of tears, because the girl with the silver hair was so very pure. So very beautiful.

With a heart that had been as golden as the light that was now lifting her up to the heavens.


	55. Epilogue

**Welp. This is it. The last chapter. **

**Thank you to all of you UNBELIEVABLY SEXY people who have read this story and put up with me (that takes a lot of patience). It means so much to me that you all take the time to read my work. I assure you, I put my heart and soul into every word. **

**Now, while this one may be over, I have another in the works.**

**I have a feeling you'll like it. ;) **

**Enjoy the last chapter, I hope it gives you as many feels to read as it gave me to write! **

**I love you all so very much. So, so, SO very much. Until next time! **

* * *

Epilogue

_Two years after the war..._

* * *

She stood and looked at herself in the mirror. In the reflection of her eyes, she saw the ones who had come before her, clapping their hands and kissing her forehead and telling her how well she had done. They smiled at her, and so she smiled back. Turning away for a moment, she walked to the closet at the other side of the room and opened the elaborate wooden doors. Inside hung a long, beautiful dress, made of silk that was the same shade of pink as the sky when the sun began to set. The bottom flared out, embroidered with delicate lace, and there was the shape of the Triforce sewn in golden thread on the sleeves. She reached out her fingers and gently ran her hands along the front of the dress, closed her eyes and just felt the beauty. She wondered what her ancestors must have looked like wearing this dress.

_Hopefully I'll do them justice. _

She lifted the dress from the closet and slipped it over her head. As it fell perfectly along the curves of her body, serenity washed over her as if someone had reached up and poured it. It hugged her like a long lost friend that had been waiting to see her again, to wrap its arms around her. She went back to the mirror and examined herself in the dress.

_Beautiful. _

Next, she gathered her hair and began to twist its golden locks. Then she pulled it back and secured it with the hair pin her Nana had given her, so many years ago. When she couldn't have known everything she would go through to reach this point—a point at which she could look outside the window and see her people smiling up at her. Finally, there was just one more thing. Without breaking eye contact with herself, she tenderly picked up her tiara and set it on her head. Everything felt complete when she did that. By her own hands, watching her own reflection grow and become bright.

_Perfect._

At that moment, there was a knock on her door.

"Your Majesty, may I come in?"

"Yes, please do."

The door opened and a young man with pointed ears, curly red hair, and glasses stumbled into the room, blushing. His smile was nervous. Genuine, but nervous. As she turned to face him, he bowed, continued to stumble over his words. He was wearing a long, formal petticoat, a white cravat, and shoes that shined almost as brightly as his eyes.

"Please, Shad. You don't have to be so formal."

When he straightened back up, clearing his throat and fixing his glasses, his cheeks were even more flushed.

"You look beautiful!" he managed.

"Thank you. You don't look so bad yourself," she replied coyly.

His smile broadened and he fixed his glasses again.

"Are you ready to go down, your Majesty? Everyone has arrived."

"...Everyone?" she raised her eyebrows.

At that, he shrugged and gave a knowing sigh.

"Well, not everyone. But soon enough, I'm sure. Soon enough. The guests are all waiting."

He lifted his arm and reached his hand out to her. She grinned when she saw the ring on his finger. His entire being emanated a sense of comfort, of being welcome. She closed her eyes for a moment, gathered her thoughts, and then nodded and took his arm.

"Very well, let's go."

Together, they walked out of her room and began their long trek down the stairwell. There was silence except for the clicking of their shoes against the cobblestones, down until they reached the doors of the hallway. He opened the door, waited for her to walk through, and then followed and gave her his arm once more. They walked toward the other end of the hall, where the ballroom was waiting for them. With each step, the air became more lively. She felt contentment, a feeling that she had still not become accustomed to feeling after so much time of feeling only dissatisfaction.

"Do you remember that night, your Majesty?" he mused. "Three years ago today. We danced together."

"Of course I remember," she nodded. "Has it really been three years?"

"It has."

"Three years..."

She lifted her eyes to the ceiling, where the murals of angels and goddesses stared down at her proudly. And then, they found themselves standing in front of the large, ornate doors that led to the ballroom. Even through the thick wood she could hear the voices of her guests, the sound of the music, the happiness and the peace that was just gushing through her castle. Shad stepped forward and put his gloved hand on the doorknob, bowing one more time.

"Are you ready," he asked, "Queen Zelda?"

She straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin, and smiled again.

"I'm ready."

With cheeks still red, and glasses still slipping down his nose, Shad pushed the door open and let the light of the ballroom blind them.

When Zelda stepped forward into that light and showed herself to the audience, the crowd of Hyruleans awaiting her, there was silence. It was perfect silence, beautiful silence, in which there was a calmness. All eyes were on her, glistening up at her, watching her every move.

She loved it.

"Welcome," she began. Her voice echoed off the walls, through the ears of the countless people. She was standing on a balcony looking out over them, her hand resting gently on the rail, as gracefully as she'd always been taught. "Welcome everyone, to the 203rd Annual Twilight Ball."

Every man bowed and every woman curtsied, their joy radiating throughout the room. Zelda saw familiar faces and unfamiliar faces alike. But she knew that every single person was there for the same reason: to celebrate peace.

"As we have every year, tonight we celebrate the deeds of the Hero of Twilight. Without him, Hyrule would be lost."

She lifted her arm in a grandiose gesture, directing their attention to the windows and tapestries, all depicting scenes of the Hero of Twilight's battle with the King of Evil.

"But tonight, as you all know, is special."

They began murmuring amongst each other in excitement, and Zelda felt her own pride growing. She had been waiting so long for this. Finally, her efforts were going to see fruition.

"Tonight we celebrate a new hero as well. In fact, we celebrate multiple heroes."

As the grand words fell from her lips, the doors on the other side of the ballroom flew open. A line of people, all dressed in bright colors and walking with more energy in each step, flowed into the room. The citizens all drew back, created a circle around these people as they came in and stood side by side, looked up at their queen, and then knelt, one by one. She counted them out and saw that Shad had been right. Everyone was there...except for one.

"These are the men and women who saved Hyrule," she continued. "They are the reason we are able to stand today in an era of peace once again."

The guests continued murmuring to each other, in raw excitement and admiration.

"These are the Loyalists."

They continued to kneel, their heads bowed. Zelda, with her hand still laying gently on the railing, began walking down the stairs. Each step was rejuvenating, and with each step she stood a little bit taller. Everyone else stood completely still when she stepped onto the floor of the ballroom and began walking toward the line of kneeling Loyalists. Standing beside them was a man holding a sword, and Zelda received the sword with both hands.

"And tonight, they become the Knights of Hyrule. They become its eternal protectors. Because without them, without their courage and their sacrifice, there would be no Hyrule to protect."

She went down the line. Tapped each Loyalist first on the right shoulder, then on the left, dubbed them a knight of Hyrule.

"I dub thee, Ashei, Knight of Hyrule."

Further and further down the line.

"I dub thee, Ilia, Knight of Hyrule."

The excitement in the room grew more with each name she called.

"I dub thee, Malon, Knight of Hyrule."

The sword was light, was soft, in her steady hands.

"I dub thee, Shad, Knight of Hyrule."

Finally, she reached the end of the line. The one kneeling had bright blond hair and a long braid that fell over his shoulder, its tip brushing the ground. He was wearing a blue tail coat, with a deep purple vest, a white collar, matching blue knickers, and tall black boots. She almost didn't recognize him. But when he took the chance of glancing up at her, and she saw the sparkle in his red eyes and the mischievous smile on his face, she had to hold in her laughter. But she was also holding back tears of pride. Gratitude. Pure joy.

"I dub thee, Sheik, Knight of Hyrule."

She let the sword rest on his right shoulder for a couple of moments, lifted it over his head, and then rested it on his left shoulder. Then, with a trembling smile, she handed the sword off and stood in the center of the room. Lifted her arms, let her voice carry through the world. And even though there was still one missing, she spoke.

"Do you, O Knights of Hyrule, swear loyalty to your kingdom from this day forward?"

"Yes, your Majesty."

"Do you swear to defend your kingdom with your life from this day forward?"

"Yes, your Majesty."

"Do you swear to be the protectors of this land from this day forward?"

"Yes, your Majesty."

"Rise, Knights of Hyrule."

In unison, they all stood, eyes bright and faces flushed. They stared at the princess as she smiled out at them, the tears glistening on the verges of her eyelids. And all at once, there was an explosion of happiness. All the citizens of Hyrule threw hands up and let their voices fill the room, loud and boisterous and exuberant. The Loyalists began looking to each other, unsure of what to do, struggling to hide their nervous smiles. And then, Sheik made his way to where the queen stood, bowed, and kissed her hand.

"May I have the first dance, your Majesty?"

As the music began to play, she curtsied.

"Of course."

Everyone reached for a partner and the ball began. Sheik grabbed her waist before she could react, squeezed her hand, and began to dance in a way that she had never expected. He twirled, he jumped, he spun and laughed out loud. Zelda struggled to keep up, tripping over her feet and clasping his hand and shoulder as tightly as possible. But each time he laughed, she laughed harder. Each time he smiled at her, she smiled more widely.

"I didn't know you could dance like this," she breathed.

"Yeah, what's that supposed to mean?" he winked. He began to spin around and around, and Zelda threw her head back and just laughed.

"You're wearing me out!" she cried.

Instead of slowing down, he put his hands beneath her arms and lifted her up into the air. She felt as light as a feather. When her feet made contact with the ground once more, she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, swayed against him to the rhythm of the music. His arms tightened around her lower back as he continued to laugh in her ear.

"Come on, we've hardly danced at all," he teased.

"Unfortunately, Sir Sheik, I'm afraid my stamina isn't as high as yours."

"What a pity."

They danced like that for a few more minutes in silence. He was warm and secure. But finally, she had to give way to the frustrated voice in her head that had been getting louder and louder with each passing moment.

"Sheik?"

"Hmm?"

"Where is he?"

He sighed and she felt him shrug.

"Din knows. You know, you'd think the guest of honor would be here on time."

"Yes..."

"Well, no knighthood for him, I guess."

"Excuse me, Queen Zelda."

She and Sheik stopped moving when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She caught a glimpse of the coy expression on his face as he stepped away and turned her around to face the one who had calmly, quietly, tapped her on the shoulder and said her name.

Before she even realized what had happened, she found herself face to face with Link. He flashed her his most charming smile, bent down, brought her hand up to his mouth, and let his lips sit on her skin. She sucked in a breath at his touch, watched his lips linger, felt heat spreading from her fingers up through her entire body and to her sharp breath. It seemed to last forever.

"It's just like you to be oh-so-fashionably late," Sheik interjected.

"My apologies."

He straightened his back, gazed right into her eyes, but never let go of her hand.

Link truly looked like a hero. He was wearing a flowing white cape with golden embroidery and golden clasps on his shoulders. Beneath the cape, he wore a long white tunic fastened with a golden belt and tall white boots. And on his head, almost hidden by his thick blond tresses, was a golden headpiece. There was an emerald in the center.

"Sorry, Sheik, but I think I'm going to steal her away for a little bit."

"I daresay you will not," he raised his eyebrows.

Zelda stood in silence, completely mesmerized by the man standing, gripping her hand and gripping her heart. He squeezed her fingers in his.

"Too late," Link smiled.

With that, he pulled Zelda toward him until their chests were pressed together, put his hand on her waist, and began to dance. In a world of surrealism, of emotions that were so pure and so dramatic she couldn't even identify them, Zelda placed her hand on his shoulder and danced with him. Each step they took, perfectly with the music, was like a burst of magic. It was as if there was nobody else there—it was only them, dancing, staring into each other's eyes, sharing each other's breath as her dress and his cape billowed with their movements.

In the midst of the dancing, while Zelda could feel all eyes on them, he bent down and brought his lips to her ear.

"You're stunning," he murmured. The warmth of his breath sent shivers down her spine, and she leaned her cheek against his.

"And you're late," she replied.

With a soft, sensual chuckle, he spun her outward. Her dress flared out, and for a few moments, she felt as if she were flying. And just when she felt that the distance from him was too great, he drew her back into him, until his lips were so close to hers that she could taste his breath. He stepped back to the rhythm of the waltz, and she stepped forward; he stepped to the right, she stepped to the left. They were in perfect unison, dancing there on the clouds, completely immersed in each other. She tightened her grip on his hand just a little bit more tightly, until she felt his body tense in reaction.

"I'm sorry about that," he whispered.

"It seems like everyone here is a hero except for _the_ Hero."

He lifted her up into the air, as every man did with his partner, and she saw the entire sky around her. But when she looked down, he simply took her breath away. He held her there for a second longer than everyone else. When she came back to earth, she gently placed her hands on his wrists, which were still laying against her waist.

They didn't resume their dancing.

He stepped forward and pulled her against him, so close that she could actually feel his smile. It made her smile, too.

"Is there any way that I can make it up to you, your Majesty?"

She paused, and it was just long enough for him to lean down and press his lips to hers. It was the most gentle, the most serene, the most eternal touch she had ever felt. Her thumbs stroked his wrists, her body swayed with the music, everything fell into place.

"Actually, there is."

She moved one hand to his cheek and pulled away just slightly. Zelda wanted to be able to look into his eyes. They were glistening in a way that made her entire heart swell with overwhelming love. Her thumb moved to his bottom lip.

"Call me Zelda."

He leaned forward and kissed her again—harder, more passionately, as if it were the very first time and the very last time. It moved her entire being.

"Whatever you want," he murmured.

He kissed her again.

As if it were the very first time and the very last time.

"Zelda."


End file.
